


All Those Things We Fear

by ReyNimanSolo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All's fair in love and war, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Emperor!Hux of Arkanis, Empress!Rey of Arkanis, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Guardian!Rey, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Loss of Virginity, Lots and lots of sex, Love Triangles, M/M, MCD Is Canon, MCD Isn't Ben Solo, Manipulation, Medium Burn, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Porn, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Queen!Leia of Chandrilla, Reylo - Freeform, Reylux - Freeform, Reyux, Senator!Ben Amidala Organa, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, but really, don't tell my wips i'm here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-04 23:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyNimanSolo/pseuds/ReyNimanSolo
Summary: Forced to leave his uncle’s Jedi academy before he could complete his training, Benjamin Amidala Organa has spent the last ten years reinventing himself in his mother’s image. He’s grown into a powerful, persuasive Senator in the New Republic with aspirations to the highest office of Supreme Chancellor.An assassination attempt forces him into an unlikely alliance with the rulers of Arkanis, Armitage Hux and his wife, Rey. As Ben’s carefully-crafted world spirals out of control, he finds himself drawn into the dark temptation of sex, lies, and ultimate power. When a family secret threatens to destroy him, Ben must make a choice between love and honour.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rey, Armitage Hux/Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 121
Kudos: 115





	1. Intrigue

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like your fan fiction canon divergent. If you do, welcome aboard and happy reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vice Admiral turns to him and leans back so her mouth is closer to Ben's ear. She raises one hand to cover the lower half of her face, no doubt to keep anyone from listening in on their conversation.
> 
> "She was indeed married to Brendol."
> 
> The sick feeling in his stomach spikes but so does Ben's interest. "Was, you say? Is he dead?"
> 
> "Quite." Lavender hair tickles his cheek as she leans even closer to keep her voice as quiet as possible. "There are whispers that his own son, who coveted both the Emperor's crown and the Empress, had him assassinated."
> 
> Ben rakes hungry eyes across the petite woman still seated alone.
> 
> Amilyn misses nothing.
> 
> "Forget it, Ben. Brendol's son took her as his wife before the old man was even interred."
> 
> An unexpected jolt of anger surges through his veins.
> 
> "And where is this son of his now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's introduce some characters! Ben's up first. 
> 
> No sex. That starts next chapter. It's porn with plot, I swear!

Ben's bored and the Senate meeting isn't even close to starting. He shifts, uncomfortable and hot in his imperial robes.

"Stop fidgeting, Ben." The Vice Admiral casts a disapproving look his way. "It makes you look like an impatient, privileged asshole."

Ben mumbles something to the effect of being exactly that.

Her look sharpens.

"Say that again, Senator. I didn't quite catch your meaning," she says.

Instead of repeating his thoughts, he apologises and sits still. Sweat rolls down his side, tickling and maddening in its descent. Stars, why is it so hot in here? It's only bound to get worse once the Senate Arena fills to capacity.

It's times like this he wishes he'd been allowed to stay with his uncle and finish his training. It's not that his skills are wasted here, quite the opposite. In the ten years since he left Luke's academy, he's grown into a powerful, persuasive politician. Even when votes don't go his way, there is almost always some concession, however small, on the part of the victors to appease him. On days like this, though, he misses the open air and long hours of practicing forms and katas until he falls into bed, body and mind sated, empty and dreamless.

In an effort to keep his mind off his misery, Ben watches the seats begin to fill, using the time to test his memory of the other members' names and positions and which systems they are here to represent.

Cylin Demesne, Governess of Mirial, catches his eye. She's a beautiful woman with skin that tends to olive rather than the more common green of her species. Skin Ben is intimately familiar with. His stomach tightens in anticipation of their next meeting, one that will be far more personal than political.

He's thinking of the way her violet eyes sparkle with mischief when the Force shimmers to life around him. It's disconcerting and unexpected, holding an edge of threat without being overt. Ben searches for the source, allowing himself use of his abilities just long enough to identify the culprit.

Movement two pods over and three down catches his attention. A woman he doesn't recognise takes her seat. She wears drapes of gray silk belted over a sleeveless tunic and tight leggings that end mid-calf. Sturdy boots in a darker colour cap her feet. A subtle crown of silver bands across her forehead and disappears into her hair. Ben wonders if the elaborate styling she wears it in holds meaning among her people the way his mother's does. His eyes widen as he spies a familiar object hanging from the belt slung low across her slim hips.

Though the connection is chaotic and full of static, he's positive she's the source. Ben leans toward his companion, his face tilted over the Vice Admiral’s shoulder.

"Who is that?" He keeps his voice low even though there's no chance anyone will hear their conversation.

Amilyn's look follows in the direction Ben indicates.

"The Empress of Arkanis. Likely here to gain support for reopening their academy and training Force-sensitives as Sentinels, if the rumours hold any truth."

Ben starts at this revelation. It cements his theory that she is the cause of the disturbance he feels.

"Is she Jedi?"

"No."

"But, the lightsaber," he says.

"Ben, you of all people know that one need only be Force-sensitive in order to command a lightsaber."

"Still, Sentinels, they are Jedi, and if she's not among their ranks then how will she train them?"

An amused, knowing smile turns up the corner of Amilyn's mouth.

"I expect we will have the answer to that sometime later today when it is her turn to speak."

With his current line of questioning at a dead-end, a new realisation hits him.

"Empress, you said? She's married to that fat oaf Brendol?"

The thought of the young, beautiful woman submitting to that disgusting old man makes Ben slightly nauseous.

"Benjamin Amidala Organa! Bite your tongue!"

Other than his own mother, Amilyn is the only one with the ability to speak to him this way in public.

"If you must know, the answer is both yes and no. She—"

Their conversation is cut short by the opening announcement that the Senate session will begin in ten minutes. A flurry of activity ripples across the Arena as side conversations break up and members crowd into their assigned pods, including Ben’s.

"Quit speaking in riddles. Is she married to him or not?" He’s careful to control the volume and tone of his voice as the seats around them fill.

The Vice Admiral turns to him and leans back so her mouth is closer to Ben's ear. She raises one hand to cover the lower half of her face, no doubt to keep anyone from listening in on their conversation.

"She was indeed married to Brendol."

The sick feeling in his stomach spikes but so does Ben's interest. "Was, you say? Is he dead?"

"Quite." Lavender hair tickles his cheek as she leans even closer to keep her voice as quiet as possible. "There are whispers that his own son, who coveted both the Emperor's crown and the Empress, had him assassinated."

Ben rakes hungry eyes across the petite woman still seated alone.

Amilyn misses nothing.

"Forget it, Ben. Brendol's son took her as his wife before the old man was even interred."

An unexpected jolt of anger surges through his veins.

"And where is this son of his now?" Ben keeps his voice steady.

A final announcement that the session will begin in two minutes goes out over the PA. Anyone not in their seats at that time will be locked out until the session takes its first break at mid-day.

Amilyn resettles in her seat.

"That is a question only her Highness can answer."

Ben's sure there’s a hint of conspiracy in her voice.

The lights go down, signaling the start of the session. They're halfway through the opening ceremony when cool air finally flows from the vents in the pod. Ben resists the urge to lean forward and put his face directly in the flow.

He settles instead for adjusting the vents to improve the airflow across his flushed skin. The respite is brief. When he looks up from the controls, his eyes lock with the Arkanisian woman's. Against unspoken Senate etiquette, the Empress has turned in her seat, looking behind and up. And straight at him.

_You're in danger, Senator_

Ben jolts in his seat, drawing scowls and low hisses from those seated closest to him.

When he looks to her again, she is ramrod straight, back to him, attention focused on the Senate floor as though nothing has happened.

He resists the urge to swipe the sweat from his brow. The last thing he needs is to draw more attention to himself. He rings for a cold drink, chiding himself for not doing so earlier. He's clearly overheated and not thinking straight because there's no way she just dared to speak to him in the Force.

The water comes and Ben is pleased when they leave an entire pitcher. He drinks, letting the icy cold seep from the inside out until he feels more like himself.

Ben turns his attention back to the Assembly.

Ord Mantell. Hyperlane easements. It's a heated conversation that gets quickly added to the next meeting's agenda when it’s clear there’s no new progress to be made. The main proponents, furious at being put off again, storm off the Senate floor. Ten other pods, allies with the Ordinians, follow suit.

Ben rolls his eyes at their exit. The reason they never make progress is because they refuse to stay for any of the meetings and therefore are unable to form new alliances. It's been going on so long, they are always the first to speak, almost as though their time on the Senate floor has become an unofficial part of the opening ceremony. It’s tiresome.

While he waits for order to restore, he scans the agenda, looking with fresh eyes. He's already familiar with it. He and his mother and a handful of others including the Vice Admiral have spent the last four months strategising which relationships hold value and how to gain new assets. They will need as much support and income as possible when Ben announces his intent to run for Supreme Chancellor.

He pulls his thoughts back to the agenda. Never once had the woman from Arkanis been part of their strategies. It's not outside the norm. For every speaker on the agenda, only one, two at most, are usually worth pursuing.

It takes time to plan and research. Ben spends much of the weeks leading up to the Senate assembly entertaining, and on some occasions bedding, all the appropriate figure heads from their chosen targets. If his mother knows about that last part, she never lets on, preferring, he hopes, to trust his judgement and not embarrass them both.

Ben is exceedingly good at his part, so much so that, more times than not, the Senate meetings are a mere formality, the actual deals having been secured long in advance.

The more he thinks about the agenda, the more it seems odd that the Arkanisians had been completely skipped over in their consideration with no reasoning as to why. That did fall outside the norm.

Ben looks down to her pod. The outfit she wears cuts low across her back but not enough to be scandalous. She hasn't moved giving Ben the freedom to openly admire her bare shoulders in the low light. Her strength is evident in the smooth curves of muscle flowing along her back and arms.

Amilyn elbows him in the ribs during a brief break but says nothing. She doesn’t have to. Her gesture says it all.

_Pay attention!_

It’s going to be a long day. Their moment isn’t scheduled until almost the end of the assembly.

Ben endures an uncomfortable mid-day meal with the Governess gushing over him in a most unsavoury manner. Where hours ago, he could think of little else than getting her alone and back in his bed, now he’s put off by her overt possessiveness. Thank the gods for small mercies. The Empress does not attend lunch and so isn’t witness to Cylin's embarrassing display.

When it is his turn to speak on behalf of the new alliance with her people, Ben stands tall and delivers Chandrila’s endorsement in a clear strong voice full of conviction. When he finishes, applause breaks out across the gallery, thunderous and approving. The Governess blows him a kiss and all Ben can feel are the Empress’s eyes taking measure of him.

There are only two speakers remaining when Ben takes his seat, the alliance between Chandrila and Mirial all but sealed.

The focus on him fades as the gathered crowd engages in the next speaker. With his part played, Ben pays the rest of the meeting no mind. He lets his gaze move back to the woman below.

A lock of hair has come loose from one of her buns. It trails along her slender neck. He imagines brushing it aside with the tip of one finger so he can press his mouth to the place he knows her pulse beats warm and steady beneath her skin.

He starts when she rises, heat flushing across his cheeks as though he's been caught touching himself in public. She clears her throat, ready for her turn at last. Her lips part just enough for him to imagine sliding two fingers into the slick heat of her mouth. Ben mentally slaps himself. This is madness. He’s not some lovestruck, horny teenager.

She begins to speak, her voice clear and strong, as she makes short work of her proposal. Ben’s riveted, not by her words but by the melody of her voice. Unfortunately for her, he is the only one. The buzz of disinterested side conversations and people ready for the cocktail hour drown out her words.

According to the agenda, she’d been allotted the last thirty minutes of the day, an indication of her low ranking. The previous speakers have all gone over time, cutting her slot to a mere ten minutes. The gavel falls while she is mid-sentence. From his angle, Ben can see her lips press together, cutting off the words. If she’s discouraged, she doesn’t show it.

The meeting adjourns and Ben rises from his seat, grateful to finally stretch his long legs. The pods weren't meant to accommodate a man of his size.

He casts one last glance in her direction, expecting to find her pod empty. Instead, his eyes find hers once more. His response is immediate and electric, freezing him in place.

_Be very careful, Senator_

This time, he knows for sure she is speaking to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this first chapter lives up to it's title.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Allure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben leans against the table for support but remains upright, refusing to show any more weakness by sitting. The dizziness passes making him acutely aware of the fact that she has one hand steadied on his hip and the other gripped around his forearm.
> 
> He straightens, thrilling at the way she unfolds in order to maintain her hold on him. Her back arches to accommodate his full height. He bows down, a little further into her space than is entirely appropriate. 
> 
> "Thank you. For saving my life." Ben can't resist leaning a little closer to chase the warm, alluring scent of her. "I owe you a debt." He's close enough to feel the heat rising from her skin.
> 
> Heat of another kind flares when her hand leaves his forearm to comb his hair aside. Her fingers tighten giving her leverage to pull him closer by his hair and his hip until her lips press to his ear.
> 
> “They say you are a man of your word, Senator,” the Empress whispers against his skin. “I hope it’s true because I have every intention of collecting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More introductions. More Ben with sprinkles of Rey and a dash of Hux. Mild Solo sex. Pun intended.

Ben has two hours to kill before the Senate dinner. Usually, it's his favourite part of the meetings. This time should be no different. Cylin will gladly welcome him into her rooms for a pre-dinner celebration, including drinks and something much more pleasurable.

He's already slept with her twice. And up until the moment he'd locked eyes with the Empress, he'd been thinking of nothing other than having her a third time. She's expecting him and he risks losing her support if he doesn't go to her.

Ben hesitates, his ardour for the Governess cooling. He can't stop seeing the other woman's eyes, can't stop hearing her voice. The urge to reach out through the Force rises, swift and strong. Ben falls back on his training, gaining control before he can act. Whatever is going on, he'll discover it the right way, without breaking his vows.

Ben drags a hand through his hair and imagines the smooth skin between Cylin's thighs instead. It's enough to reawaken his interest. She does make the loveliest sounds when she comes.

He doesn't bother returning to his rooms, choosing instead to head toward hers. She'll have expensive liquor and want to serve it to him wearing nothing at all.

Ben's half hard when he rounds the final corner. Distracted by his thoughts, he almost runs over the Empress.

She slides away, avoiding a full collision. Instead, some warm, solid part of her ghosts across the front of his trousers where they've grown tight. His hips snap back, out of range, but it's already too late. It doesn't matter that her touch was brief. He's fully hard and there's no hiding it.

"Senator, my apologies. I didn't hear you coming."

Ben's not sure why but he's sure she's lying. Perhaps it has something to do with the way she's looking the swell of his cock like she wants to devour him in one, long agonising swallow.

Heat uncoils in his belly. He tells himself it has more to do with the embarrassment of his compromising position rather than the sudden, intense desire she evokes. He shakes his head to clear away his lecherous thoughts before they escape and embarrass him further.

"No harm done, Empress… " He lets the sound drag out in a question, hoping she'll tell him her name.

"Until dinner, Senator." She bows and walks away without looking back.

Ben's not sure if it's her way of dismissing him or whether she's trying to tell him something. If she's trying to send him a covert message, he hasn't yet figured out what she means. It's as much a mystery to him as the fierce magnetism that consumes him when he's near to her.

He waits until she disappears around the corner before knocking on the Governess's door. Just as he predicted, Cylin holds a glass of expensive liquor and wears nothing but the necklace he gifted her early on in their negotiations.

He rushes in, hoisting her until she wraps her legs around his waist and spills Corellian whiskey across his mouth and down her bare breasts. Any other time, this would be an occasion to lavish the woman with his lips and tongue, making sure to lick and suck every last drop of the sweet amber liquid from her skin. To Ben's horror, he's gone soft.

He carries her to bed, intent on keeping his condition from her as long as possible.

"Do you not want me?" Cylin asks when she discovers his dilemma.

"Of course, I do, love. It's just that last night was… exceptional." He rubs the day's stubble across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, relishing her sharp intake of breath. He drags the flat of his tongue over the same spot then blows, soothing the reddened skin.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, holding him in place while she grips his head between her thighs.

"Gods, Ben. You'll ruin me with that mouth of yours."

Ben sets about doing just that.

After kissing her goodbye and reassuring her again that she needn't return the favour, he beelines back to his own rooms. There isn't much time left before the cocktail hour. He's thankful he doesn't run into anyone, reeking of sex as he is.

Ben strips down the moment his door locks behind him, leaving a trail of crumpled clothing in his wake. Cylin's scent clings to him even so. He's so eager to rid himself of it that he doesn't wait for the water to warm before stepping under the spray. Icy water sucks the air from his lungs. It has zero effect on the aching hardness jutting from between his thighs.

He groans as he takes himself in hand, unable to deny himself any longer. He allows himself to think of the Empress at last, recalling the smoothness of her back and arms. Memory quickly turns to fantasy. He imagines her undressing for him, peeling off each layer of clothing at his command, baring evermore of herself to him.

Ben comes, violent and hard, spilling into his hand and painting thick, pale arcs across the dark tiles.

The intensity leaves him gasping and shaky. He leans his forehead against the cool tiles, cock softening in his hand, and wonders if he's losing his mind.

* * *

He's late picking up the Governess and she makes him aware of her displeasure by pouting. Ben makes it up to her the best way he knows how. He takes his time, showing her off, introducing her to new and powerful people. When he's run the gamut, he deposits her in front of an adoring crowd of junior Senators. With luck, she'll find a quick replacement for him.

On his own, Ben gets himself his first real drink of the night and retreats behind a faint shimmer of the Force. Moments like these are so rare, it's one of the few times he allows himself to break his vows.

He just needs a moment to catch his breath. There's still a long night ahead. The way the Governess keeps looking his way tells him she expects him in her bed when this is all over. So much for the distractions he's put before her.

He scans the crowd, his height giving him an unobstructed view of almost everyone. There's no sign of the Empress. He keeps searching. When he's glanced over the entire room he goes back and starts again. Nothing, not even a glimmer of her signature.

He's been under too long. The Force, loosened from his tight hold, swells inside him. Ben pulls back and finishes his drink in one fast shot. Fire lights in his veins. He steps back into the game.

There are hands to shake and jokes to share, womens' cheeks to kiss. Ben charms them all. It's time, beyond time really, to return to the Governess's side. He's been gone too long already, stalling in the hope that he'd come across the Empress before having to return to Cylin.

He's halfway to where his date is filling her drink when he's waylaid by an unfamiliar man.

"Ah, Senator. I'd hoped to have an opportunity to introduce myself and my wife."

Ben's staring, rather rudely, but he can't help it. He's never seen anyone like the man in front of him. His pale skin glows, luminous and untouched by a sun's radiation. It makes the fiery copper of his hair even more vivid. Green eyes appraise him with a familiar, electrifying energy. Ben's no stranger to the unique pleasures of sharing his bed with other men, knows physical attraction when he feels it.

The man continues when Ben doesn't respond, extending a hand gloved in supple black leather toward Ben.

"Armitage Hux, Emperor of Arkanis. It's a pleasure to finally meet, Senator Amidala."

If the man's words leave any doubt as to who he is, the slim crown of silver across his forehead, no thicker than the Empress's, seals it. The band is etched with subtle, symmetrical patterns. Ben tries to remember if the Empress’s carries similar engravings but can’t recall. He wasn’t looking at her crown when they crashed into each other.

Just as Ben opens his mouth to return the greeting, the banquet hall goes dark.

The next few seconds arc out in chaotic flashes of red and scattered, buzzing movement. Someone screams, loud and shrill.

Blaster shots race through the crowd, all aimed at him. Ben instinctively throws his hands in front of his face. It will make no difference. The bolts will slice right through him.

A sharp pulse of energy shoves him to the floor.

"Stay down, Senator!"

He knows its her even though he's only heard her voice out loud twice.

She ignites her saber, unleashing the distinct yellow hue of her dual-bladed pike that marks her as a Guardian.

A blaster bolt ricochets off a clasp on his heavy cloak, carving a trail of agony from his chest to the peak of his forehead. The impact sends him crashing the rest of the way to the floor. Pain blooms in his hip and shoulder. He folds his knees to his chest and laces his hands behind his head, curling in a fetal position. Ben forces his uninjured eye open.

The woman blocks the rest of the incoming fire, pike spinning in one hand. In the sharp glare of the emergency lights he watches as she disarms the attackers. Their weapons rise into the air, out of reach of even the tallest guests. The Force buffets around him as she holds them at bay until they are taken into custody.

When it's over, Ben pulls his hands away from his neck and pushes himself to his knees. The nauseating smell of plasma-seared flesh clogs his nose.

Chaos makes it difficult to focus. Someone calls for medics as small crowds gather around what he can only assume are casualties of the attack.

"Senator, are you okay?" she asks over her shoulder.

His face and chest are on fire. Vertigo rolls through him with a nauseating sway.

There's a panicked mob headed his way. Before he can tell them to stay back, the Empress spins her weapon in a slow, repeating figure eight, warning them back.

"You will return to your rooms. The Senator needs immediate medical attention."

The crowd disperses, heading for the exits without protest.

She escorts him the whole way and he feels slightly ridiculous at the notion that he's been reduced to this. Her husband is not with them. Ben lost sight of him in the melee.

He feels somehow diminished as she stands guard while he receives treatment. The moment the droid finishes applying the dressing over the wound carving across his face, Ben’s off the table.

She’s there, strong and steady, when he wobbles.

“Easy, Senator. Give yourself a moment to adjust.”

Ben leans against the table for support but remains upright, refusing to show any more weakness by sitting. The dizziness passes making him acutely aware of the fact that she has one hand steadied on his hip and the other gripped around his forearm.

He straightens, thrilling at the way she unfolds in order to maintain her hold on him. Her back arches to accommodate his full height. He bows down, a little further into her space than is entirely appropriate. 

"Thank you. For saving my life." Ben can't resist leaning a little closer to chase the warm, alluring scent of her. "I owe you a debt." He's close enough to feel the heat rising from her skin.

Heat of another kind flares when her hand leaves his forearm to comb his hair aside. Her fingers tighten giving her leverage to pull him closer until her lips press to his ear.

“They say you are a man of your word, Senator,” the Empress whispers against his skin. “I hope it’s true because I have every intention of collecting.”

She steps away, leaving a cool, electric space between them, and stands at the ready, feet wide, arms clasped behind her.

Before he can respond, his mother enters the med bay followed by the red-haired Emperor.

“Ben! Are you okay?” His mother rushes at him. Instead of hugging him, she grips his chin in her palm and pulls his injured cheek down for inspection. “Will it scar?” she asks.

Ben wrenches his face from her grip. Of course, she's most concerned with the potential harm to his looks.

Over his mother's shoulder, Ben locks eyes with the Emperor, disconcerted by the lingering attraction he finds there. He really must be losing his mind.

"Mother, please. I'm fine."

His mother doesn't push, choosing to get down to business instead. Typical.

"Ben, this is—"

She's interrupted when her comms burst forth with an urgent communiqué. Leia stops in her tracks and turns away, wrist to her mouth, voice low and commanding, son forgotten as she storms from the med bay to deal with whatever crisis is more important.

The red-haired man speaks.

"Senator. They say you’re to make a full recovery."

"Yes, thank you." Ben takes full measure of the man. He’d been standing close enough to touch when the attack had happened. And yet, there’s not a hair or gig line out of place.

The man smiles with the promise of a thousand suns.

"Senator, with our earlier introductions so rudely interrupted, I wasn’t able to finish. If you’ll allow me, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Rey, Empress of Arkanis."

_Rey_

Ben's eyes cut to her, accusatory. She's been so silent and still. Suspiciously so. He'd forgotten she was in the room. Watching everything.

“Majesty," he says by way of acknowledgement. "It seems I owe your wife a great debt." Ben keeps his eyes on her though he's speaking to her husband.

She stares back, undeterred. Unseen energy flares between them, electric and hot.

"A debt easily settled, Senator. The protection you require in exchange for support of her Highness's Sentinel academy. We have the students already recruited but lack a critical component necessary to implement final training techniques. To achieve that, we need you.”

Ben has to hand it to the man. He’s got balls the size of a bantha.

The spell breaks when Ben looks away from Rey to meet the Emperor's stare.

"I don't have that kind of authority.” He does but he's not leveraging it for some ambitious backwater imperial.

“Not yet, you don't. But you could, if you had a reason, Senator."

"What reason could I possibly give to garner support of such an action? It borders on warmongering," he says.

"Your mother's, for one. Politics is a most dangerous game. Especially for someone who aspires to the top. One can never be too careful. Whatever else you do, trust her in this. An army under one's personal command is a persuasive argument against uprising."

Ben says nothing, waiting for him to make his full appeal.

The Emperor continues. "Three days. Convince the people who need convincing. In the meantime, I leave her with you for protection by order of your mother, the Queen.”

The man smiles with all the warmth of a hungry rathtar.

Head spinning, Ben finds himself alone with the Empress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


	3. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mind churns over the dilemma he now faces, a tight knot wedged beneath his ribs. He reaches a hand over his shoulder, grabs a fistful of his ruined shirt and pulls it off. It gets tossed onto the back of a chair that holds an existing pile of his discarded clothing. Footwear goes next.
> 
> "Senator, I—" Her voice cuts off with a sharp intake of breath.
> 
> Ben turns, shirtless and barefoot, to find Rey's eyes roaming over him, cheeks stained red. His obvious effect on her fills him with angry satisfaction. It would seem he's not the only one struggling with unexpected attraction. Pent-up energy makes him reckless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, sex. But, not the sex you’re expecting.
> 
> CW: The sex may be considered dubious consent for some.

The moment they are alone, he speaks.

"I wish to return to my rooms."

She bows and moves away. Ben watches her handle the business of cutting him loose from medical. 

"You are free to leave, Senator," she says when she returns. 

"And, you?"

"As his Highness said, I'm to accompany you. For your protection."

She moves with the coiled, deadly grace of a loth-wolf, keeping her distance during the trek to his rooms without leaving his position unguarded. The space between them does nothing to dampen the heady pull of attraction roiling through his veins. It pours out into the Force, as electric and inescapable as the thrill that runs through him at the way her strength flows beneath her movements.

Sorcery, pure and simple. They've already stated what they want from him and she's clearly the bait. 

When his door locks behind them, he turns on her, livid. 

"I don't know who you think you are, but this borders on treason." He spits the words, heavy with venom.

Undeterred, she crowds into his personal space, hot and vibrant and so fucking sure of herself.

"Be very careful, Senator, that you do not misjudge who is calling the shots. Unless something changes, we are in your service. Nothing more."

He stares down at her in shocked silence.

"You would do well to take your rest." There’s a faint suggestion flowing from her into the Force.

Ben's furious at her blatant attempt to coerce him.

"Rest. You've been through quite an ordeal tonight.” Her push is more insistent, curling with silken temptation across his mind.

His hands tighten into fists. He can't think straight while she's so close to him. Control slipping, he does the only logical thing.

"We're not done yet," he says through clenched teeth before turning away.

Angry beyond words, Ben storms into his private quarters, leaving her in the main room to stand guard as she insists. He needs to put space between them to give himself time to collect himself and cool down.

His mind churns over the dilemma he now faces, a tight knot wedged beneath his ribs. He reaches a hand over his shoulder, grabs a fistful of his ruined shirt and pulls it off. It gets tossed onto the back of a chair that holds an existing pile of his discarded clothing. Footwear goes next.

"Senator, I—" Her voice cuts off with a sharp intake of breath

Ben turns, shirtless and barefoot, to find Rey's eyes roaming over him, cheeks stained red. His obvious effect on her fills him with angry satisfaction. It would seem he's not the only one struggling with unexpected attraction. Pent-up energy makes him reckless.

When she turns to leave he lunges out to grasp her wrist.

"Wait." He knows he's done for when she lets him pull her close.

Her hips curve, warm and strong under his hands. He wants to kiss her, touch her in earnest but he needs her permission. The quickness of her breath and her palms against his chest aren't enough for him to take those liberties.

"Is it forbidden?" He asks, voice strained.

"No." The word is breathless and quick. "We are not Jedi, Senator. Unlike your family's religion, nothing is forbidden."

He takes her answer as an invitation and lowers his mouth to her throat. Her pulse is warm and steady against his lips, just as he imagined.

She sighs. Her fingers slide into his hair, tightening just enough to pull his mouth from her skin.

"Senator, please, I can't."

Ben leans in, countering her resistance but stopping short of touching her.

“I can feel your excitement. It’s all around you.” 

"Maybe so, but it hardly matters." She settles her hands back on his chest, pushing him away enough to meet his eyes. The fire burning there is almost enough to make him lose control. "I owe Armitage a life debt, Senator. And, in that, there is no place for anything else."

"A life debt has no bearing on us, on this," he says, unused to being turned down.

"The Emperor does not wish to share me," she answers.

Ben pulls away as she reminds him of her place, and of his. He can’t keep from looking at her face, the flush in her cheeks, the shimmer edging her parted lips, the hunger lighting her eyes.

"Does he treat you well, Highness?" He knows exactly how he’d treat her. She deserves no less.

"My husband prefers the company of men."

Ben swallows hard at her revelation.

"Surely he allows… "

Rey shakes her head. "No, never."

"But, your needs—"

"Are of no consequence," she finishes. "Mine is a greater calling, something beyond the fleeting pleasures of now and worth every sacrifice. Including this. You." 

Ben isn't giving up so easily. He trails kisses along her slender neck to give her a taste of what she's missing, savouring the way she shivers.

"You don't seem entirely convinced, Highness." He makes certain she feels the heat in his words.

"Senator...Ben, _please._ Don't make this any harder than it already is."

His blood surges.

"Say it again." 

"Please, don't make this—"

"_No._ Not that. My name. Say my name again."

His thoughts run wild with all the ways he'll teach her to say his name if given a chance.

“Say it,” he whispers between little kisses against her skin.

When she does as he asks, it's all wrong.

"Ben, _stop!"_

Rey pushes hard in the Force, pinning him to the opposite wall.

Her brazen use of power snaps the last of his control. His anger makes it easy to free himself from her hold. He stalks toward her with a low snarl, fists clenching with fury.

Rey's eyes widen.

"Senator, forgive me. I—"

Ben towers over her. "Do not ever touch me like that again, Empress." Menace seeps into the Force, oily and suffocating.

Before she can respond, the door to his chambers buzzes, signalling a visitor.

He pushes past her, knocking her aside.

"Senator, wait!"

When he yanks the door open, Cylin stands expectantly in the doorway.

She takes in his half-dressed state. Her eyes slide past him, surely to stare at the woman already in his rooms. The open worry on her face darkens into confused anger.

Ben groans inwardly at his stupidity.

"Cylin, are you alright?" She flinches back when he reaches for her.

"What's going on, Ben?" Hurt and embarrassment colour her cheeks a deep gold.

Ben rushes toward her sweeping her into his arms. Her squeal of shock turns into a high-pitched giggle as he buries his face against her neck.

"I'm so glad you're here," he tells her when she wraps her legs around his waist.

Cylin's hand snakes between his thighs, giving him a solid squeeze.

"I can tell." Her delight at finding him full and hard beneath her hand makes her eyes sparkle.

Ben turns, carrying Cylin into his chambers. His eyes meet Rey's. He keeps staring at her even when Cylin kisses him, unable to look away until he's too far past Rey to see her any longer.

Ben carries Cylin to his bed, setting her gently in the middle before climbing in on all fours above her.

"Who is she? I don't like her."

"No one. My mother's doing." He bends his elbows, leaning in to kiss her. "Pull your dress up."

Her eyes are dark when he rises to give her room.

She hitches her skirt above her hips. The small triangle of white silk beneath glows against her dark skin.

Ben slots himself between her thighs, groaning at the friction when he presses against her. He draws back, pushes against her again, rutting through their clothes.

Cylin's fingers dig into his waistband, fumbling at the catches. Ben braces himself on one arm to help her get his pants off.

She makes a surprised sound of delight at finding him nude. Her small hand wraps around his cock, fingers delicate in contrast to his heavy thickness. Ben pushes his hips forward when she swipes her thumb across the head, smearing the slick there.

He pulls her hand away so he can press his cock against the front of her panties. The damp material stretches, letting him sink into the tight, shallow well beneath the barrier of wet silk. He pulls back, sliding his entire length through the slick channel between her thighs.

She chants his name, the word bubbling out like pearls on a silken string. Ben closes his eyes, hears Rey's voice instead of Cylin's. He growls and looks at the woman writhing below him. The image of the Jedi woman burns hot in his mind.

He sits back on his heels, knees bent. Cylin yelps when he grabs her hips and seats her ass on the incline of his thighs. Out of control, Ben snaps the thin material holding her panties over her hips. He tosses the sodden scrap away. 

The door to his bedchamber slams closed as he pushes her legs apart. Ben groans as he slots himself against her tight opening. He pulls with the Force, wrenching his door back open as he sinks into Cylin.

Ben only manages two furious thrusts before he has to pull out. He comes, cock wedged against Cylin's belly as a lake forms in her navel. It spills over, running down to pool against the bunched fabric of her dress.

Guilt replaces his spent fury, making his head spin. Cylin is looking at him with something akin to distaste. He's never taken her like this before, greedy and selfish with no attention to her needs. Always before, he's taken his time, undressed her slowly, brought her off more than once with his mouth and fingers before taking anything for himself.

Another sharper wave of guilt burns across his skin. Ever so gently, Ben reaches out in the Force and closes his bedroom door.

_Bastard_

Ben's not entirely sure which of them has said it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben's been a bad, bad boy.


	4. Consquences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man smiles with an edge Ben doesn't miss. And, what reason would he have not to smile? In the short span of time since the attempt on Ben’s life, this man has managed to make Ben his captive audience.
> 
> "Call me Armitage, please. I'd prefer it if we were on a first name basis."
> 
> Ben takes the glass the man offers.
> 
> "She's stunning, isn't she?" Armitage says.
> 
> "If you are speaking of the Empress, yes. Wherever did you find her, if you don't mind my asking?"
> 
> "Not at all, Ben. May I call you that?"
> 
> "You already have."
> 
> "Ah, yes, but this time I'm asking. After all, we're gentlemen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another introduction. Hux, seasoned with a fair bit of ginger spice, just the way we like him.

"We have to pull out."

Leia, full of righteous concern, paces the room. Billowing robes belie her tiny stature. She looms large and authoritarian.

"Mother, no. That weakens our position."

"But Ben, your face. You can't hide—"

"Exactly, mother!" Ben's furious. "Let them see that attacking me, us, changes nothing."

"Ben, we have no idea yet who is behind the attempt on your life, or why. You'll be an open target. We can't fight what we don't know."

He holds back his sigh of frustration. Sometimes talking to his mother, he feels as though he is the parent and she the child.

Ben takes stock of the other two people in the room.

Wita Altrelirr, his mother's Cerean assistant, has no need of what comes next.

"I'd like a moment alone with my mother, please."

Wita gives a short bow. "Of course, sir."

When Rey turns to follow, Ben stops her.

"Not you, Empress."

Rey gives him an angry look, reminded, he's sure, of the last time he made her bear witness to his _personal_ interactions. She resumes her resting stance, cold and stoic, no trace of the heat cresting his own cheeks.

"Ben, what is going on?"

"You tell me, mother. Starting with why she is here."

He doesn't like the look on his mother's face.

"Benjamin." Her use of his full name is a warning not to interrupt her. "This conversation is entirely inappropriate." She turns to Rey.

"Leave us, please, but remain just outside the door."

"Yes, Majesty." Rey bows in acknowledgement and retreats.

As soon as the door hisses closed, his mother lights into him.

"Are you trying to sabotage your chances at the election or are you really this stupid and selfish?" she asks.

The heat already in his cheeks flushes down his chest, prickling and uncomfortable.

"Mother…" he warns.

"No!" Her eyes flash with a look he's only seen directed at his father. Now, she's directing it at him.

Ben backs down under his mother's withering gaze.

"I'm sorry. Tell me what to do."

"You will start by making a formal apology to the Governess of Mirial and another to the Emperor and Empress of Arkanis."

Leia stops, nearly choking on her next words.

"I cannot _believe_ your behaviour last night."

He cringes wondering which of the two women gave his mother the exposé.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."

"Do not underestimate the Emperor of Arkanis, Ben. He is a very ambitious man who knows exactly what he is after. It is our good fortune that his aspirations are strategically aligned with ours."

Ben's stomach tightens at what he knows is coming. His mother doesn't disappoint.

"After you were attacked, he came to me with information that, if true, puts us at a grave disadvantage. So far, everything he has given us has checked out. It's already been decided. We couldn't wait for you to rejoin us before making a decision. "

Ben looks at her, dread blooming in his chest.

"What did you do?"

She ignores his question, pressing on as though he hasn't spoken.

"The Emperor and his wife will join you today in the Assembly. When it is your turn to speak, you will announce that we are negating the deal with Mirial and are choosing instead to throw our full support into the Arkanisians' Sentinel Academy."

His heart seizes as the gravity of her words sinks in.

"I have to tell Cylin," he says.

"You will do no such thing. You are not to have any further contact with her beyond your apology."

Ben winces. It's harsh and though he knows he deserves it, Cylin certainly doesn't.

At last, his mother softens.

"You look as though you didn't sleep."

"I didn't," he says.

"Amilyn can handle the first half of today's Assembly. Be prepared to give your apologies at the mid-day break, then return to your place on the Senate floor to announce our intentions. Go rest a few hours, make yourself presentable."

"What about the Empress?"

"She is to stay with you at all times." His mother levels her stare at him. "And, you will keep your hands entirely to yourself for the remainder of her time with you. Do I make myself clear, young man?"

"As kyber."

* * *

"Governess." Ben's kneeling at her feet. "I am truly sorry for what happened, for my _behaviour_, last night. The attack affected me more than I realised. It doesn't excuse my actions."

Cylin's practically salivating as he grovels at her feet.

"There's more than an hour left before we reconvene, Senator. Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate how sorry you are."

Ben holds steady when the Governess stretches one leg out, touching him beneath the chin with the toe of her slipper.

Rey saves him from the Governess but not from the shame lighting his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, my Lady, he cannot stay. His schedule is full this afternoon and he is already late."

Cylin draws her leg in and shoots daggers at Rey with her look.

"I'll be expecting you later, Ben. To finish your apology."

He can't leave fast enough. Rey matches his pace. For once, he keeps his mouth shut.

As awful as what he just endured with Cylin was, it pales in comparison to what he must endure next.

Ben understands his position the moment he arrives at his next meeting. His mother is still conspicuously absent and, unlike his meeting with the Governess, which took place in a semi-public conference room, this one takes place in the Emperor's private quarters.

He ignores the hot rush of emotion directed toward his mother in favour of calm patience. If he's learned anything from his uncle, now is the time to practice it.

Rey disappears into a back chamber, leaving him alone with the Emperor.

The man closes the distance between them until he's embracing Ben.

He presses thick, warm lips to Ben's uninjured cheek while one hand plays with the hair along his nape.

Ben's pretty sure he knows the score when those same lips speak in his ear with a conspiratorial tone.

"Senator, welcome. I'm looking forward to working more closely with you."

The Emperor's hips cant forward, a subtle shift that removes all doubt about what the man is implying.

Fresh heat flushes Ben's skin at being reduced to this, an object for his mother to trade favours with among the dignitaries she deigns to ally herself with. The cause has always come first, even before her husband, and certainly before her only son.

Ben pulls free and takes a step back. It surprises him that the Emperor is only a few centimeters shorter than himself. The man is tall but slight, giving him the appearance of being less substantial than he really is. Ben makes a mental note not to underestimate him. Slight though he might be, there is hidden strength under the severe cut of his clothes and the sharp jut of his cheekbones.

Ben swallows hard to free his voice from where it's trapped in a throat tightened by indignant anger.

"Your Highness, let me start by offering my sincerest apologies to you. I've done you and your wife a great insult. It isn't something that will be repeated."

He delivers his apology with appropriate gravity, vowing to never allow the man in front of him more intimacy than he's already helped himself to.

An amused smile turns up the corners of the man's mouth. Ben keeps his hands open and soft at his sides though the urge to ball one into a fist and smash the smile from the Emperor's face is hard to resist.

The man waves a dismissive hand and turns away.

"Ben, my boy. All in the past. Your mother has assured me that it was certainly due to yesterday's extraordinary circumstances. It's not every day one is the target of an assassination attempt. Quite understandable."

He rankles under the man's obvious condescension. Armitage Hux is no more than five years Ben's senior and far less important.

Ben has one card to play. He chooses to hold on to it for now.

"Your wife," he says. "I owe her the same courtesy of apologising in person."

"Of course." Armitage takes the only seat available. He calls to her over his shoulder. "My Lady, Senator Amidala wishes to speak to you."

Armitage settles back in his seat, eyes hot and intense on Ben. The smirk is back, half hidden beneath the curl of two fingers. Ben has a bad feeling about this.

The Empress returns to stand beside her husband's chair.

Ben isn't sure what he was expecting. She's still dressed the same, everything seems as it was but there's a strange prickling undercurrent. It feels similar to the Force but isn't, not quite.

She touches her husband’s shoulder before sliding into his lap. His hands settle on the arms of his chair, untouching, while hers curl around his neck.

The air electrifies, making it difficult to move, to think.

Armitage clears his throat, impatient when Ben's silence stretches too long.

Ben tears his eyes away and kneels down, staring at the polished toe of his boot. "Your Highness, I owe you a sincere apology for my behaviour last night. I meant no disrespect to you or your sovereign. The attempt on my life affected me more than I realised. It's no excuse."

He glances up, wanting to look at her when he finishes his apology and immediately wishes he hadn't.

The Empress has her face buried against her husband’s neck. He whispers something Ben can't hear into her ear. Her quiet moan twists like a knife in Ben’s stomach. More whispered words. She moans again and curls deeper into him.

The Emperor shushes her before pushing her gently off his lap.

"Return to your rooms, love."

She glides away without a backward glance.

Ben tries and fails to understand what the rules of this game are. He can't keep his eyes off the Empress as she retreats. He's missed something vitally important.

"Come, Senator. Let's share a drink, as equals."

Ben doesn't hesitate to rise to his full height.

"I could stand for a drink, your Highness."

The man smiles with an edge Ben doesn't miss. And, what reason would he have not to smile? In the short span of time since the attempt on Ben’s life, this man has managed to make Ben his captive audience.

"Call me Armitage, please. I'd prefer it if we were on a first name basis."

Ben takes the glass the man offers.

"She's stunning, isn't she?" Armitage says.

"If you are speaking of the Empress, yes. Wherever did you find her, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all, Ben. May I call you that?"

"You already have."

"Ah, yes, but this time I'm asking. After all, we're gentlemen."

Fresh annoyance narrows Ben's eyes. He manages to keep his tone light.

"Of course."

"Jakku."

"Excuse me?"

"That's where I found her. Jakku."

He can hardly believe anything so beautiful existed in that junkyard wasteland.

"Is that the basis of her life debt to you?" Ben asks.

A thin smile crosses the man's face.

"She told you?"

"She did."

"Her life debt is nothing so simple as being freed from slavery."

"What is your price, Armitage?"

The man's smile fades.

"Death, of course. Mine. Or, hers."

It seems Ben spends more and more of his recent days on the simmering edge of full-blown rage. Today is no exception. His mother will come to regret leaving him out of this decision because now he is free to decide for himself. Ben knows what he wants.

"Best hold on tight, Armitage. The things we covet most tend to slip easiest from our grasp."

The Emperor gives him a bright smile that doesn't touch his eyes and taps the rim of his glass against Ben's.

"Oh, we have so much still to discuss. This is the start of a great alliance, my friend." Armitage finishes his drink in one quick swallow. "Come, Sentaor. The second half of the session is about to begin and you have an allegiance to break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Hux is up to something.


	5. Turmoil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You still train often?" Armitage asks.
> 
> "Occasionally, when time permits."
> 
> "Rey seems to think it's quite a bit more than casual judging by her description of you."
> 
> Ben shrugs, not sure what to make of the new line of conversation.
> 
> "Perhaps." He doesn't want to talk about his physicality or how this man’s wife knows anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the fun begin. A warm-up make out session before the full-blown sex. We’ll get to that soon enough.

There is the expected uproar when Ben revokes his deal with the Mirialans. He forces himself to look at Cylin while he does it. It's a painful exercise in self-punishment no amount of apologising can ever fix. She leaves the floor in tears but there's nothing Ben can do about it. He hates the part of himself that is relieved to see her go under such harsh terms.

There is greater unrest when Ben announces the Chandrilians have retained the protective services so generously offered by the Arkanisians until such time as the threat against his life is over. He says nothing about endorsing their Academy. The man beside him stiffens but it's so subtle no one other than Ben has likely caught it.

He turns away before the tentative applause has faded. Rey becomes his shadow as he leaves the Senate floor. He stifles a smile and wonders which of them will find him first.

Turns out, it's Armitage.

"What is the meaning of this, Senator?" He's spitting mad.

Ben enjoys watching him battle for control of his emotions. Good. Serves the bastard right.

"My mother may be Queen but it is largely figurative. As Senator, the final decision rests with me."

"Benjamin!"

Right on cue.

"Mother, there you are."

"What do you think—"

"I think we are not done agreeing to _terms,_ your Majesty."

His mother looks at him with what feels like a glimmer of, dare he say, respect?

"Come with me, all of you," she says.

Leia takes them to neutral ground, her rank giving her all-hours access to private Assembly chambers.

They begin talking all at once, all but Rey.

"Are you finished?" she asks when their arguments get nowhere.

All eyes turn to her.

"Armitage." His name sounds softer when she says it. "This is counterproductive."

Rey looks at each in turn, her gaze lingering longest on Ben.

"Let's start again. This time with the understanding that we are all here for the same reason. The path to peace is forged in chaos but it doesn't have to be. Let's start again," she says.

"The Empress is right."

It's Leia. She turns to Ben.

"Senator, I apologise for excluding you from giving counsel prior to making a strategic decision. It was within your right not to acknowledge an agreement you had no say in."

Ben's stunned at his mother's open concession.

"I also now see it was unwise to exclude you, Senator."

Armitage this time. Will wonders never cease?

Ben’s already apologised to each of them for his indiscretion and won't do so again. They are starting fresh, after all.

It's Rey who breaks the impasse once again.

"So, we are all in agreement, then?"

The conversations, while still not easy by any measure, spool out with each side stating their case and their reasonings for what their next move should be.

"That would leave us exposed, open to attack," Ben says after he's finished listening to Armitage.

Armitage turns to him. "Not necessarily."

He adds more detail to his plan, all of which Ben has to admit could work. The man is a brilliant strategist with an answer to every scenario, no matter how wild, Ben throws at him.

The vibrant conversation begins to wane as energies flag. Armitage breaks away first to fill a glass with liquor from the bar.

"Anyone else?" he asks. "I'm sure we're all in need of a little break."

Ben's the only taker.

Leia engages Rey in a quiet conversation about hairstyles, leading her into an adjacent sitting room and leaving the men alone. Their discussion turns away from strategy to politics and philosophy, and finally to smaller, more meaningless subjects.

The time spent with Armitage mellows Ben's ire toward the man.

"Are there many more like her?" Ben asks.

"They are rare but enough exist to achieve our goal."

Ben's reply is noncommittal now that the subject has turned back to business.

"You still train often?" Armitage asks.

"Occasionally, when time permits."

"Rey seems to think it's quite a bit more than casual judging by her description of you."

Ben shrugs, not sure what to make of the new line of conversation.

"Perhaps." He doesn't want to talk about his physicality or how this man’s wife knows anything about it.

When dinner arrives, he knows it's courtesy of Wita who works behind the scenes on the finer details. If things continue going in his favour, Ben means to ask his mother if he can take her on as his assistant.

The conversation between the men fades as the women sit to eat. Ben's riveted on Rey, taken by surprise at what he sees.

"There is still much that's savage in her," Armitage says before lifting his glass to his lips.

It's easy to see in the way she eats, no care for manners or etiquette. Greedy hands help themselves to whatever they can reach, shoving food straight from the serving dishes into her mouth as fast as she can manage. Rey sinks glistening fingers between tight, puckered lips, sucking each slim digit clean until her cheeks cave in.

The effect on him is swift and powerful. He's thankful his mother is seated with her back to him.

Armitage leans into Ben's space to deliver the next bit of information.

"Only the harshest winds, like those that blow endless across Jakku, produce the finest, most polished edges. Even so, other facets remain, jagged and uncut. She is very much like the kyber crystals revered by your Jedi, Senator. So full of untapped potential just waiting for the right hands to unleash her full power.”

An empty stomach and unfamiliar liquor loosen his thoughts. Ben devours the possibilities. He's so consumed he doesn't protest when Armitage slides closer, turning until his front is pressed to Ben's side, one hand curled around his hip to hold tight.

"Food is one of her currencies, Ben." The other man's excitement is as inviting as it is undeniable. "Would you like to know another, one that can only be had by sharing?"

The bright edge of promise sharpens Ben’s thoughts, turning them fast and dangerous. He leans away without disengaging.

"My mother is in the room," he says.

Armitage steps back.

"Of course. I'm a patient man. In the meantime, let's eat."

Armitage sits beside Rey. 

From his seat across from them, he watches, fascinated, as Armitage quietly guides Rey until she begins eating with her utensils and using her napkin. Ben stares at his plate, unable to meet anyone’s eyes for fear they’ll see the wicked intent written all over his face.

When his head clears, he takes a bite. He hasn’t eaten in far too long. The food fortifies him enough to break the tense quiet and begin a simple conversation. It starts out halting and slow until Leia’s casual mention of hairstyle similarities between Arkanis and Chandrilla gives it traction.

The conversation turns to livelier subjects as the tension drains away. Rey is beautiful when she smiles.

_ So are you _

His eyes slide to her but she won’t meet his look. 

He tears himself away only to find Armitage staring at him with open curiosity. It's all the confirmation he needs to know their earlier conversation is far from finished. The terms are yet to be negotiated and time is of the essence.

Ben waits until they are enjoying caf and Corellian fried ice cream before saying what's on his mind.

"Will you be joining Rey and I tonight, Armitage?"

His mother's spoon pauses halfway to her mouth. She gives Ben a stern look of warning.

Armitage looks delighted.

"I would enjoy an opportunity to spend time with my wife."

"It's settled, then."

With dessert finished, his mother gives him a stiff hug and says good night. Whatever else she's thinking, she keeps to herself. Ben sends a quiet word of thanks to the stars for sparing him the indignity.

It's a short trip to his rooms. There's a brief pause while they secure his quarters. It leaves an uncomfortable energy in its wake.

"Let me get you something to drink. What would you like?" Ben does his best to dispel the awkward silence.

Liquor for Armitage. A sweetened fizzy drink with crushed ice for Rey.

When he returns from the small galley kitchen, his guests are perusing different ends of his book collection.

Rey has her head in the engineering section while Armitage scans the historical archives.

Ben sets their drinks down.

"Here. I'll leave you two to get caught up." 

They murmur thanks, still engrossed in his books.

Ben retreats to the kitchen, glad for the space. Exhaustion creeps across his limbs and softens his thoughts.

He can't make out their words but there's an undercurrent of excitement to whatever they're saying.

His mind begins to drift. The image of Rey on Armitage's lap, the way she'd moaned though he hadn't touched her. Ben knows that sound. He's drawn it from countless lovers with his mouth and fingers and cock.

_Food is one of her currencies. Would you like to know another? _

It's far too easy to take Armitage's words as a proposition. He's all but offered Rey up on a silver platter.

Guilty heat rushes through him at the thoughts running through his mind. In all of them, Rey is his to do with as he pleases.

Ben busies himself with making a pot of caf no one asked for, hoping to cool his thoughts with the mundane task. This line of thinking isn't doing him any good. While he waits for the caf to brew, he whips up a froth of blue milk sweetened with carbosyrup.

He scoops a bit of cream onto his finger to taste.

"There you are!"

Ben whirls in surprise, finger popping free of his mouth. Cream smears across his lips.

He must look absolutely wanton but then, so does Armitage with his pink cheeks and bright eyes.

Ben can't hold back his laughter. It goes on long enough his sides begin to ache.

When the laughter fades, it leaves behind a charged silence. He stares at the man in front of him, his smile sharpening into hunger. Ben licks at the sweetened milk melting on his lips.

"You still have a little cream there." Armitage brushes his thumb across the corner of Ben's mouth. His hand lingers, full of intent.

Ben breathes out in surprise. He grips the other man's wrist in an attempt to maintain their distance.

"Armitage—"

Warm lips cut off the rest of Ben's words.

He goes rigid at the dizzying thrill of unexpected intimacy. The man's clear, powerful desire for him is more than Ben can withstand.

He leans in, kisses back. The sweetness of the cream across his tongue is as rich as Armitage's quiet moan of appreciation.

A warm hand slides behind his neck, fingers curling into his hair.

_entirely to yourself_

His mother's voice, sharp and clear as a bell, cracks across his mind like a slap. He pulls back, desperate to rein himself in before this spins beyond his ability to control.

“Fuck. I can’t.” Ben groans, grinding into the other man’s palm where it presses against the traitorous, needy length of him.

“Can’t?”

His breath hisses when Armitage nips along his neck and pulls his shirt free of his waistband. Deft fingers undo Ben's shirt front.

"Or, don't want to?" Soft hands find their way beneath his clothing, smoothing across his chest and sides, careful to avoid his healing wound.

Ben wants to. He very much wants to.

"Fuck."

"Is that an invitation, Ben?"

He wants to protest but he wants Armitage's bare skin on his more. Ben shrugs his shirt off until it drifts to the floor and fumbles with the unfamiliar clasps on Armitage's.

When they're both bare chested, Armitage sinks light teeth into his shoulder before trailing open-mouthed kisses full of tongue up his neck.

"If you're going to turn me down, better do it soon."

The small part of his mind that's still rational knows he should do just that but he wants Armitage to suck his cock the way he's sucking at his neck.

They're shirtless and kissing, Ben shoved up against the counter with Armitage wedged between his thighs when Rey's voice breaks through.

"My Lord, I'm sorry to interrupt but we have a full agenda tomorrow and the Senator has not slept in almost two days."

It's like a bucket of ice water down his back. He grips the other man's wrists and gives him a gentle push back. Their mouths are the last place to part.

Still close, Ben presses his forehead to Armitage's. Electricity bolts along his nerves when his skin makes contact with the band of metal the other man wears. Thoughts spin to life, colourful and chaotic and not his own. For a brief moment, he sees himself through the other man’s eyes, feels the man’s powerful attraction to him.

Ben yelps and pulls away. The strange energy from earlier is back, stronger than before. He stares at Armitage, his mind full of suspicion he doesn’t give voice to.

"Until later, Senator."

Ben has to grab onto the counter behind him when Armitage disengages.

He closes his eyes against the chaotic buzzing thoughts. Ben can't find strength enough to say goodbye.

Long moments pass. Sounds ebb and flow until there's only silence.

"Ben?"

Her voice shatters the stillness.

He scrubs a shaking hand down his face and curses under his breath. She's still there when he opens his eyes.

The look on her face means something but he's too tired to make sense of it.

Ben can't stay here any longer. Everything's too fucked up and he can't think.

It takes the last of his energy to push himself off the counter. He stumbles past her, knocking into her hard enough to push her aside.

His bed has never felt so good when he falls into it, pants and boots still on. A swell of blissful relaxation crests across his mind.

It's interrupted by someone tugging on his foot. He sighs in relief when first one boot, then the other slides free. A quiet voice instructs him to roll onto his side before coaxing him back onto his stomach.

The cool light weight of his sheet settles over him, bringing another deeper wave of drowsiness. Ben swears the last thing he feels are her lips ghosting across his ear as she bids him fair warning.

* * *

Angry voices rouse him. Bright sunlight streaming through transparisteel does the rest, burning away the last of his sleep.

"It didn't happen. I made sure of it!"

"It was too close. _We're_ too close."

Ben groans and buries his pounding head under his pillow at the familiar voices. The previous day's events seep back into his mind, starting at the end and finishing at the start.

He's positive he's losing his mind. He's also positive it's something that can be fixed entirely with fresh, strong caf. Experience has taught him that caf goes a long way to smoothing the awkwardness of mornings after questionable behaviour.

He doesn't bother putting on a shirt. They've both already seen him without. Ben rakes a hand through his unruly hair and pads to the kitchen in his socks and pants.

"Morning," he says as he passes by.

They stare at him and mumble greetings.

His cup is halfway to his mouth when an explosion deafens him. The shockwave knocks him off his feet. He crashes to the floor, his cup shattering into a thousand pieces when he loses his grip. Hot droplets scald his skin.

Smoke curls through the doorway, clouding thick and ominous against the ceiling.

His ears begin to ring with high pitched sounds he recognises as yelling. Ben scrambles to his feet. Instinct kicks in, launching him toward the chaos. He ignores the stabs of pain where sharp bits of his broken mug bite through his socks.

The smoke is thicker in the main room but it's still clear enough to see.

The Emperor and Empress fight side-to-side, cornering a small group of armed combatants. There are more on the ground than are left standing. They move as one so that her pike's blades keep the attackers from striking long enough for him to execute them at close range. Every single blaster shot arcs away from Ben, no chance of friendly fire. They make short work of the rest until no one is left.

Armitage holsters his blaster at the same time Rey deactivates her saber staff. They're both breathing hard.

On the ground, one of the last to fall groans and shifts amongst his dead comrades. Armitage snarls and straddles the injured attacker. In one swift motion, he produces a blade from his sleeve and finishes him off with three quick jabs to the heart and lungs.

Armitage pulls the knife free of his opponent, wiping it on the dead man's clothes before rising.

"Would you happen to have tea instead of caf?" he asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux. I love him so much.


	6. Entropy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben lets out a short, choked laugh.
> 
> "Tell me you're joking. This cannot be happening."
> 
> He looks at each in turn and knows it's no joke, not to them.
> 
> “When their training is complete, you will be free to return to this life,” Armitage says.
> 
> "No. I won't do it. You'll have to find another way."
> 
> "Ben."
> 
> What they’re asking is madness. It won’t do anything but get more people killed. A rush of adrenaline leaves him shaking and chanting no. 
> 
> "I took a vow, mother! And now you want me to break it because it's convenient for you? Are you trying to sabotage my chances at the election or are you really this stupid and selfish?"
> 
> Leia's slap cracks across his uninjured cheek. It changes nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new introduction. Kylo Ren.

"Twice. In less than a day."

They're in his mother's penthouse, as secure as anyone can possibly be. Rey's sleeping in one of the guest quarters while the rest of them talk.

"It's the Mirialans," Ben says. "I recognised their insignia."

"Not likely," Armitage says.

"Not likely? Of course, it was them. After what we did yesterday, they're desperate to save face."

"How is openly attacking the Senator of Chandrila going to do them any good? Someone saw this as an opportunity to come after you a second time and deflect blame."

"He's right, Ben. It would be political suicide."

He looks from Armitage to his mother. There's no point arguing with them. It’s a waste of time. He wants to know what they have to say.

"If it's not them, who is it?"

His mother shares a glance with Armitage before deferring to him.

"We have reason to believe it's Kylo Ren," Armitage says without preamble.

Ben huffs out an abrubt laugh.

“You can’t be serious. He’s nothing. A minor Outer Rim warlord. We have no business with him.”

His mother has gone pale and still. She’s wearing an expression he’s never seen on her before. Fear. It raises the hair on his arms.

“I believe him, Ben.”

This conversation has gone completely off the rails. Ben struggles to get a grasp on the situation but Armitage doesn't give him the chance.

“He’s after Rey, and now he’s after you, too. It’s only a matter of time until he makes another attempt on her. And, on you,” Armitage says.

“What reason could he possibly have to come after me, much less her?”

Ben’s eyes cut to Leia. She’s silent and tense though her gaze is direct.

"You really expect me to believe this?" he asks her.

“Listen to what he has to say, Ben. You owe him that, at the very least.”

He stiffens, unhappy at being called out by his mother.

They wait until he gives a small gesture of acquiescence.

Armitage begins filling in the gaps.

“About a year ago, Rey was on Takodana. There were stories of a young Force-sensitive Togruta girl with certain special skills. Rey had gone in search of her in the hope of recruiting her. They were attacked by Ren and his Knights. Rey assumed they were after the girl, too, until Ren made it clear he was after Rey.

“There was an uprising, led by Maz Kanata’s security forces. Together, they fought back Ren and his Knights but not before Ren took the Togruta girl hostage. He offered the girl’s freedom in exchange for Rey but left with the girl before Rey could surrender.”

There had been rumours of an attack on Maz’s castle but none with this level of detail.

“There was never any mention of this on the HoloNet.”

“You are not alone in your belief that Kylo Ren is a minor annoyance. Make no mistake. Ren has powerful allies in the Outer Rim. All attempts to spread the word have been thwarted by a shadow organisation calling themselves the First Order.

“The one sitting at the top goes by the chosen moniker of Supreme Leader Snoke. He is a powerful dark side Force-user. Like us, he is attempting to forge an army of highly trained Force-sensitives, starting with Kylo Ren and his Knights.”

Everything Armitage says comes as a shock but one statement stands above the rest.

“Kylo Ren is Force-sensitive?”

“Without a doubt. As are all his Knights. Snoke is only interested in those who are. He is especially interested in Rey. And, in you, Senator.”

Ben’s not sure how much more of this madness he can take.

“He wants to turn Rey into Ren’s bride. And, he clearly wants you eliminated. Force-sensitive or not, you’re more valuable to him dead than alive.”

There are no words for what he’s feeling. It’s a mixture of dread and an uncomfortable emotion he doesn't want to acknowledge. His pulse pounds at his temples, thoughts spinning. They catch again and again on the sharp burr of Ren’s desire for Rey. His obscure emotion crystallises into an undeniable, barbed pang of possessiveness.

Ben reins himself in. He’ll give the Arkanisians one thing; they certainly know how to get beneath a man's skin.

“Anything you want to add, mother?” Ben can’t keep his mistrust from sharpening his tone when he addresses her.

“What he says is true. At least, the parts about Takodana and the existence of the First Order. Your father was able to contact Maz. She confirmed both the circumstances of the girl’s capture as well as the growing strength of Kylo Ren’s dark side army.”

It’s too neat, too tidy. Ben sees an opening to poke holes in Armitage’s story.

“What you're saying is dangerous at best, traitorous at worst. We have no place in this. The conflict is between you and Ren. It’s more likely both attacks were attempts on Rey and I just happened to be close by.”

Armitage's impatience and frustration flare in the Force before snapping away. 

“Your privilege is showing, Senator. And, if you do not step beyond it, then it will only be a matter of time before Ren and the First Order rain their darkness across the entire galaxy.”

Hackles raised, Ben pushes back.

“You seem to know more than you should about Ren and his First Order. Why is that? Who’s to say you’re not in league with them?”

Before Armitage can respond, Rey emerges from the guest room.

“We’ve saved your life twice, Senator. What more can we do to convince you?”

Ben’s eyes cut past Armitage, surprised to see Rey up so soon. She’s tense but appears well-rested. Something Ben can’t say.

He finds himself on the familiar ground of strategic negotiations. Experience tells him their first moves were merely an opening ploy to get them to this point. Even he has to admit he’s impressed by the effectiveness of their tactics.

“This isn’t about your Academy, is it.” Ben says.

“Not entirely, no.”

“What do you really want?” he asks.

Rey looks to Leia, holding her stare. Something unseen and tangible passes between them.

Sure movements full of conviction bring Rey to the middle of the room. Her eyes meet his.

“We need you, Ben, to finish training our recruits. It’s the only way we’ll have the strength to defeat Ren’s army.”

His mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Stillness settles heavy in the room until he finds his voice. This has gone far enough.

“No, absolutely not.”

The Arkanisians stare at him without saying anything.

"Ben." Leia's voice is soft.

He shifts his angry gaze to her.

"No! Everyone needs to calm down. Those were Mirialan security forces. This morning’s attack was retaliation for our actions in the Senate yesterday. Nothing more and certainly nothing to do with whatever insanity you claim you're engaged in with Kylo Ren."

Armitage continues, unfazed by Ben’s skepticism.

"The Togruta girl, she has a very powerful ability to harness battle meditation. We believe that's why Ren kept her instead of taking Rey. He's using her to carry out his attacks by taking command of other armies. It keeps himself and the First Order out of the spotlight."

"Battle meditation?" This is so far out of bounds.

“You’re not wrong about this morning’s attack. Those were Mirialan security forces but they were not under Mirialan command. We are convinced Ren and the Togruta girl are responsible. It’s easy to see why they chose the Mirialans. You practically played into their hands,” Armitage says.

The rebuke stings. He knows Armitage speaks something of the truth about what is happening. As much as Ben wants to deny it, the attacks felt personal against him. He’s positive someone has tried to kill him twice in as many days even if he won’t admit it out loud. He’s also positive the Arkanisians are deeply involved.

“I believe you owe two life debts to Rey and one to me, Senator. We’re offering to cancel them all if you agree to complete our army’s training.”

Their surety in his abilities is laughable.

"I barely scratched the surface of what it takes to become a Jedi and you expect me to go up against that? It's suicide."

"Ben," his mother says again.

"What?" He turns to her, fists clenched.

"Now is not the time for you to forget who you are."

"Are you referring to the fact that I'm a Skywalker?"

He's furious she's throwing his lineage in his face, now of all times.

"All of a sudden, you want me to be a Jedi Master? Where was that ten years ago when you forced me to give up my training before I could even become his Apprentice?"

"I would make the same decision," his mother says in a quiet voice. "Then and now."

When he doesn't say anything, she continues.

"You _are_ a Skywalker. There is no escaping that. I’ve given you ten years of a normal life. It's more than I'd hoped for and less than you deserve. Nothing can change the fact that it's time to live your true life, Ben. Your time has come to train a new generation of Force-users. They will not be Jedi and so have no need of a Jedi Master."

Ben lets out a short, choked laugh.

"Tell me you're joking. This cannot be happening."

He looks at each in turn and knows it's no joke, not to them.

“When their training is complete, you will be free to return to this life,” Armitage says.

"No. I won't do it. You'll have to find another way."

"Ben."

What they’re asking is madness. It won’t do anything but get more people killed. A rush of adrenaline leaves him shaking and chanting no. 

"I took a vow, mother! And now you want me to break it because it's convenient for you? Are you trying to sabotage my chances at the election or are you really this stupid and selfish?"

Leia's slap cracks across his uninjured cheek. It changes nothing.

"I won't do it. Now, if you don't mind, we need to get back to the Assembly."

"It's been canceled due to the attacks. All but the Elder House representatives remain," Leia says.

He’s surprised and relieved. This conversation is over.

"In that case, I'm leaving as soon as I can arrange for transport."

"You can't leave, Ben. Not until the special Council meeting," Leia says.

"I'm not an Elder and therefore not required."

"The Elders have requested you stay until we reach an agreement on how the Republic chooses to respond to Ren’s terrorism."

Ben's elation curdles. Involvement by the Elder Houses means they believe the threat against him is real.

"You're to remain on Coruscant under the full protection of the Arkanisians until the emergency session is over."

A request from the Elders isn't a request, it's an order.

The Arkanisians have him cornered. Again.

"And, when is the Council meeting?" It takes everything he has to keep his emotions in check. 

"Five days. The Outer Rim members need extra time to arrive."

Ben turns to leave. Delicate finger-shaped lines of heat burn across his cheek.

"Where are you going?"

"It looks like I'm going nowhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Lots going on in this chapter. Ben's in a bit of a tight spot.


	7. Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the days of confinement drag on, Rey’s presence becomes harder to ignore. She flits through the apartment in constant search of busywork. In the empty space she leaves when she retreats to meditate, Ben finds he misses the way she hums quiet, rhythmic melodies to herself. 
> 
> Late on the third afternoon, Rey marches up to him after a particularly long meditation and snatches his datapad from his hands.
> 
> "Get up. Put on some shoes. Do it quick and I'll let you bring this damned thing."
> 
> It's the most she's said to him in three days. 
> 
> Ben's restless and this is a nice change of pace. He runs a hand through his hair. It's silky fine from a fresh washing and keeps sliding into his eyes.
> 
> "We going somewhere?" he asks as he pulls on his boots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lions and tigers and Force-bonds. Oh my!

With his own quarters in shambles, Ben secures a new suite of rooms, one with two separate ensuite sleeping areas adjacent to a common area.

He extends an open invitation to Armitage to be with his wife as often as he wishes. With the way things have been going, Ben expects the man to move in. Instead, he visits Rey each morning, always leaving before second meal.

Ben could care less, choosing to ignore their presence.

For three days, Ben and Rey remain in his rooms. She's not free to leave without him and he refuses to go anywhere. He spends his time with his head buried in his screen, gathering alliances and soothing the ruffled feathers of slighted dignitaries. Cylin is not among them.

As the days of confinement drag on, Rey’s presence becomes harder to ignore. She flits through the apartment in constant search of busywork. In the empty space she leaves when she retreats to meditate, he finds he misses the way she hums quiet, rhythmic melodies to herself.

Late on the third afternoon, Rey marches up to him after a particularly long meditation and snatches his datapad from his hands.

"Get up. Put on some shoes. Do it quick and I'll let you bring this damned thing."

It's the most she's said to him in three days.

Ben's restless and this is a nice change of pace. He runs a hand through his hair. It's silky fine from a fresh washing and keeps sliding into his eyes.

"We going somewhere?" he asks as he pulls on his boots.

"I have to get out of this place. I need to move."

Rey takes him to a small practice arena ringed with empty spectator seating.

She hasn't asked him to join her beyond bringing him here. He assumes she wants to practice alone so he finds a seat in the shadows and powers up his datapad in an attempt to give her space.

He engrosses himself by playing sabacc with the AI to keep from looking at her. The game isn't enough to drown out the sound of her movements and the way her breath speeds as she warms up.

The familiar hum of an igniting lightsaber snares his attention. When he looks up, she's moving so fast her blades blur into thick bands of plasma shield. It takes Ben a moment to recognise the pattern as traditional lightsaber forms. Her rhythm flows, one into the next, seamless and powerful.

The moment she finishes, she starts again without pause.

Ben sets his datapad aside and comes down to the edge of the floor to watch. Her delivery is flawless and lethal.

"I've never seen anyone move through the forms like that," he says when she stops to catch her breath.

Rey powers her weapon off and turns to him, eyes alight.

"Then, you haven't been paying attention to yourself when you train. I’ve seen the holos. Of you."

Her cheeks are ablaze but it could be exertion as much as embarrassment at having admitted to watching the pirated training holos of him making the rounds a few years back.

"Those stupid things?” he says. “That was nothing like what you just did."

She moves closer, sure and precise in her movements.

"Only because you never finished your training. You were on your way to this. You could still get there. With me." She leans over the low wall separating them, close enough to touch. "I'll help you, Ben." Her words are full of quiet persuasion.

Temptation coils through him, too much to resist. His muscles clamour for relief from the pent up energy of the last six days.

"Which form is your favourite?" he asks as he toes off his boots.

"Niman."

"Of course. Stupid question." He strips his shirt off, leaving him in a singlet and the loose pants he’s taken to wearing around the apartment.

"Questions are only stupid if you don't ask."

The floor springs under Ben's bare feet as he steps in.

Rey pushes off the wall, leaving her pike behind. She backs away, unarmed, a friendly smile on her face.

"Niman is most like a dance. For serious combat, I chose Juyo.” Her eyes follow his hands as he gathers his hair back and bands it in place low on his neck.

"Are you any good?" he asks.

She's taken up a defensive stance.

"I like to think so," she answers.

What she doesn't know is that he has been watching himself practice. More than that, he never stopped practicing. There were just never any more bootleg holos of him. He made sure of it.

She moves first, a quick flash of aggression letting him know she means to engage.

"You ready?" he asks.

To Ben's utter surprise, he finds himself pinned to the mat with three quick moves. She only holds him down long enough to claim victory before sliding off and standing.

"Are _you_ ready?" she asks.

This time, he is.

She counters his first two moves then puts him on the defensive. Ben fights back. For a short while, neither has the advantage then Ben hesitates and ends up with his shoulders to the mat. Like before, she gets up quickly.

"You're using the Force," he says.

Rey flips a strand of hair out of her eyes and resumes her ready stance.

"Only a little. Instinct. You're twice my size."

"Would you prefer using weapons?"

"You have a lightsaber?" The excitement in her voice sends a rush of heat to his face.

"No. I was more thinking of training weapons."

"Right. Of course."

It’s no surprise when she chooses a quarterstaff. Ben takes a moment to consider what he knows about her fighting style before settling on a pair of Escrima sticks. They’re much shorter than her staff but his longer reach evens up the advantage.

She gives him time to warm up. In a matter of moments, he falls into the focused space of pure concentration. It’s a place he hasn’t found himself in since his mother separated him from Luke. He immerses himself in the long-forgotten feeling, following her lead through the familiar forms and katas until every part of him is loose and warm.

Rey attacks without warning. Her staff snaps against his shin hard enough to make him step back.

Pain quickens his mind.

He blocks her next strike and locks her weapon up with one of his, giving him a clean shot at the outside of her thigh with his other stick.

She yelps but holds her ground.

His other shin lights up when she cracks the bottom of her staff against the bone.

Ben falls back. Rey uses the opening to make short work of their first round, disarming him of both sticks and leaving his knuckles bloodied and bruised.

She comes at him again and again.

Each time she defeats him, he learns more, adapting to her style so she must fight harder for each win.

He's missed sparring against a real person. It's exhilarating and she's an excellent fighter for how small she is. She’s even more fierce wielding a weapon. He has yet to win a round. It takes most of his energy to keep his defeats small even though she isn’t using the Force. Since they changed to weapons, she hasn't used her power by unspoken agreement. Ben doesn’t doubt if she did, he’d be unable to match her.

They square off. This round is his. He knows exactly how to take her.

“Switch weapons.” She eases off her stance and offers him the quarterstaff.

The request catches him off-guard. When he hesitates, she waves him on. “Come on. Hand over the sticks.”

Refusing means admitting defeat before they’ve even started and that just won’t do. He's not giving in until he wins at least one round. Ben offers her his weapons.

Rey spins them in her grip and resumes her stance.

Danger, thick and electric, blazes to life. It roils off her in waves, an unfamiliar, unpleasant sensation.

Ben’s wariness turns to full, animal awareness. He coils, weapon ready, vision sharpening.

For the briefest moment, time moves in slow motion, then everything breaks free.

She comes at him with a yell, fierce and strong.

The danger becomes a living breathing thing between them.

Ben pushes forward, his staff rising with barely enough time to block the frenzied arc of her weapons.

She hits hard, the twin blows sending shockwaves up his arms. He grunts and stumbles back, off-balance.

She takes the advantage. Using the stick in her right hand, she pushes him the rest of the way over.

His back hits the ground, breath catching in his throat.

Rey seats one stick under her arm and reaches out, face blank.

Anger sparks to life at how easily she’s outmanoeuvred him. He takes her hand and lets her help him up.

“Again,” she says. “Do it again.”

He lets go of her hand and steps away, biting back the sharp comments sitting on his tongue.

The staff feels solid, trustworthy in his grip.

If it’s battle she wants, it’s battle she’ll get. He sets for Ataru this time instead of Soresu.

Ben waits for her attack, muscles tense, awareness humming. It doesn’t come. She stays poised, her position unmoving, eyes locked with his.

He can’t get a read on her.

Stinging sweat rolls into his eye. When Ben blinks, she launches forward. With no time to raise his weapon in defense, he twists away, landing once again on the mats, this time on his stomach. His staff rolls beyond easy reach. Ben pounds a fist against the ground. Fine dust puffs into eyes already stinging with sweat, leaving him blinded.

His anger flares, hot and volatile. Its strength snaps around him like a cloak.

Unable to see, he reaches out with his feelings, sensing her next move a split second before she makes it.

Ben rolls left, feels her sticks beat staccato in the padding next to his head.

He spins upright. Tears stream from his eyes, clearing enough of the grit for his vision to return. His arm shoots out, calling the staff to him. Before it reaches his outstretched hand, Rey spins and knocks it away.

She pushes forward, sticks moving in well choreographed arcs. Their blurred motion sends him back, defenseless.

Her attack continues. Fear drives a cold spike through his chest.

His back hits the wall. With nowhere left to go, Ben squares off, hands ready to fight, knowing he’s no match for the dense wood of her weapons but too angry to give in and use the Force.

Her weapons whistle closer. Ben braces for the pain.

Rey stops short, sticks going still.

A tense moment passes before she heaves in a shaking breath. When he feels sure her attack has ended, he swipes away the gritty tears with his palm.

Rey straightens, weapons held low and loose.

“Again.” She turns away. “This time with discipline.”

He watches her return to the centre of the arena.

Ben battles the angry humiliation of the last few skirmishes.

He wipes the last of the dirt and sweat from his eyes before retrieving the quarterstaff.

His anger shrinks to a bright pinpoint centred in his chest. Manageable. For now.

_With discipline_

Ataru. Once again.

Rey follows, body poised for yet another round.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Ready.”

Once again, she quickly defeats him.

They continue sparring until his muscles scream with the exertion. It doesn’t seem to matter what he does. She continues to make short work of his attacks.

Rey circles him, unbridled victory dancing in her eyes, and reaches out her hand.

_You’re enjoying this_

Rey gives him a sharp, feral smile.

“Very much so,” she answers.

Ben’s anger burns hotter at her open acknowledgment. Feelings shoved into a crowded corner, he lets her help him up. This time, he doesn’t let go once he’s risen. His grip tightens, reeling her in until their bodies meet.

She bares her teeth at him and tries to twist free. Ben uses her momentum to spin her around and bend her arm backward until the pain has her on her knees. He divests her of one stick then kicks her free hand, knocking the other stick from her grasp.

The hand he kicked balls into a fist and arcs back, aimed at his chest. He catches her hand before she can strike. The moment he has a hold on her, she pulls hard, bringing him to his knees at her back. He curls over her, their hands and arms trapped at odd angles between their bodies. Ben adjusts his grip and hauls her back until she arches against him.

He angles his face against hers, holding her head in place with his cheek.

“Yield.” He pours the words into her ear, quiet and commanding.

A violent shiver roils through her then she’s twisting in his grasp.

Ben releases his hold, letting her spin freely.

She yelps and loses her balance, giving him the opportunity to topple her onto her back and press her shoulders to the mat.

Rey freezes when he settles low across her lap.

They’re both breathing hard against the sudden stillness. The world shrinks when her eyes meet his. Residual energy from their fight compresses into urgent heat beneath his palms and thighs. She shifts against him, the movement full of unspoken promise. Her skin is slick where it touches his. 

Ben licks his lips but before he can lean in to kiss her, the heavy weight of a Force-hold sinks into his muscles. It’s a dirty move. She knows he won't fight back even though he’s already shown her he can.

"It's about time you won a round," she says.

He uses his annoyance to distract him from the way she feels beneath him.

"Let go of me."

"Why won't you help us?"

"I am helping you, and everyone else, by spreading peace through politics instead of war. You're asking me to go to war, Rey."

"War is inevitable. You don't know the First Order like we do. We can slow them down, keep them from proliferating, hopefully even stop them."

"By training an army of Force-sensitives disguised as peacekeepers? That's your plan, isn't it?"

She squirms beneath him.

"Stars, you're heavy."

"Don't change the subject."

Her eyes pin themselves on his.

"He's powerful, Ben. They could have slaughtered us even though Maz's forces outnumbered them ten to one. There are seven of them including Ren. He appears to be their Master."

"What stopped him?"

"Nahla Bishrem, the Togruta girl. She's young, untrained. Even still, she attempted to take control of Ren's knights. When that didn't work, she took over Maz's forces, used them to fight back. Ren overpowered her, took her hostage.

"He sent word he would exchange her for me. What I didn't realise is Ren had recognised her use, however clumsy, of battle meditation.

"I was on my way to give myself up when the remainder of Maz's army surrounded me. Ren took my delay as a rejection of his offer. He left and took Nahla with him."

"Why would Maz keep you from making the trade?"

"It wasn't Maz. I'm positive Nahla used Maz's soldiers to keep me from being captured. He had no intention of freeing her. Ren wants us both."

“Ren wants you for himself." Armitage has said as much. Ben's possessiveness is back, fierce and sharper than before.

Her eyes darken.

"It’s so much more than that, Ben." She glances away before saying the rest. "I'm bonded to Kylo."

Her soft use of Ren’s first name catches him by surprise. That and the quiet desperation in her voice is all it takes for understanding to dawn, clear and bright. Her admission punches him in the gut.

"A Force-bond?"

"Yes, forged by Snoke in an attempt to turn me, but Armitage figured out a way." Her fingertips touch the slim silver band at her forehead.

His earlier suspicions come rushing back. If she wasn't holding him against his will, he'd touch the band to see for himself if what he believes is true. Instead, he settles for asking.

"It's not a crown, is it?"

"No. It's made of stone mirror. Armitage discovered its ability to disrupt the bond."

"Armitage is also Force-sensitive?"

"He's null. He wears his because it gives him the ability to tune in to my signature."

Ben’s thoughts darken.

"Make you his slave, you mean."

“You’re wrong about him. It isn’t Armitage who wants to enslave me.”

He nearly falls onto her when she releases her hold.

Rey anchors her palms into his shoulders and rolls them until he's on his back again. She settles across his lap, knees bent along his sides.

He waits but the Force-hold he's expecting doesn't come. She leaves him free to move if he chooses. Ben stays still, relishing the warmth of her strong curves against his hips and thighs.

“We need you,” she says.

Wisps of damp hair frame her flushed face. She’s heartbreakingly beautiful.

Ben resists the temptation to reach up and pull her into a kiss. He pushes back, demanding she admits the connection between them is real, that she feels it, too.

“We need? What about you, Rey? What do you need?”

Her lips part giving her room to sink her teeth into her bottom lip. She shifts against him, full of bright promise.

“You’re the only one who can save me from him.”

His desire molts into quiet anger. She's not here for him. She's here to save herself. This is nothing more than another attempt to coax him into settling her score with Kylo Ren. He recognises deception and coercion when he sees it, has used it himself more times than not to get what he wants.

Ben curls his hands around her upper arms, bracing her in place with a light grip.

“We should get back," he says. "We’ve been gone a long time."

The shift in her demeanor is swift. Her expression changes into something he can’t read.

She lifts herself off him before sliding away, careful not to touch him where he’s grown hard.

He catches the barest glimpse of skin above her waistband when she uses the hem of her shirt to wipe her face.

"Nice work today," she says. "You've kept up on your forms. It shows."

Ben pushes himself off the floor and follows her. This isn't over yet. There's no moving forward until she admits the truth about her intentions.

She's standing against the low wall, her back to him.

He stops when he's close behind her.

"Rey."

There's a long pause while she fiddles with her pike.

Ben reaches out to rest his hand on her shoulder.

She jerks it off with a violent shrug then spins to face him, her back to the wall.

Her crown might be enough to weaken the Force-bond across the stars. It has little effect in close proximity. Her hurt and anger stream into the Force, turbulent and furious.

"What? What more do you want, Ben?"

He refuses to acknowledge that in spite of everything, he wants her in a way he's never wanted anyone else. 

"Ren won't stop until you're dead. Until we’re all dead or at his mercy. What part of that don't you understand?"

She takes a breath to compose herself. When she speaks again, her voice barely wavers.

"He's coming and if we don't do something soon, it will be too late to stop the slaughter. Until he's no longer a threat, there's no room for anything else.

"You asked me what I need? It doesn't matter what I need, or what I want, because if you won't help us there won't be anything left to want."

Her conviction burns bright in the Force.

"Ben?"

His churning thoughts make it impossible to form a response. If even half of what she says is true, then it’s already far too late. Ben meets her eyes and knows one thing for certain.

The war has already begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fighting as foreplay. The heat is on.


	8. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben checks himself and hands Armitage a glass before filling them both.
> 
> “You have questions,” Armitage says after he’s taken a healthy sip. “Ask them.”
> 
> "Did you have your father murdered?"
> 
> The man's demeanor darkens though he is still smiling.
> 
> "Straight to business. I like that." Armitage takes another sip. "Yes. Next question."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A madness of two, shared by three. Some backstory on the origin of Rey and Hux's unusual relationship.

The Council of Elders gets off to a chaotic start. There are too many questions and not enough answers. Everyone speaks at once until tempers begin to flare. Already there is dissent and they haven’t even touched on what’s really at stake.

“Enough!”

The shouted arguments continue.

“That’s _enough!”_

Silence descends, all eyes on Armitage who stands tall and solemn before the assembly. He’s fire and ice with his bright copper hair and stark white uniform.

“If you are finished, we have urgent business to discuss and time is short,” he says.

The Elder from Coruscant, Governor Devarian, calls out.

“And, who are you? You’re not part of the Council.” The man turns to the person seated next to him. “Do you know this man?”

“I do not, Governor.”

Devarian continues his line of questioning.

“Does no one vouch for him?”

The Elder Council’s distrust of the Arkanisians gives Ben vital information. He’d assumed the Council had issued the protection order keeping them at his side. It’s clear his mother is behind that little decree. He'll tackle that issue when this one is resolved.

For now, Ben rises to stand with Rey and Armitage, knowing he doesn’t have much choice but to back his mother’s plan. She is the only one he trusts even though her intent is unclear.

“The sovereign of Chandrila vouches for the Arkanisians.” Ben delivers his endorsement with a conviction he doesn’t quite feel.

A buzz of confusion lights through the crowd.

“Why should we listen to you, Senator? You’ve already demonstrated the ease with which you break your alliances.”

Ben bristles at the murmur of hesitant agreement but holds his temper. This isn’t about him right now. Not entirely.

“You shouldn’t,” he answers. “You should listen to the Arkanisians."

All eyes shift away from Ben as Rey begins to speak.

Ben's stunned. He recognises her speech from the Senate meeting. She had intended to use her time to inform them of Ren's plan to assassinate him in an attempt to stop it. When that failed, the Arkanisians had guarded his life and fought until they could be heard.

It takes only a short amount of time before Rey has the entire gathering of Elders, including Ben, riveted. They listen, their questions growing more pointed and serious as the hours wear on. The discussions steer toward strategy with the different Houses detailing the resources they offer to the initial response. Through it all, his mother remains seated, strong and silent beside him.

Someone finally calls for a continuance so everyone can eat and rest. A second motion to reconvene in the morning goes up followed by general consensus. With the next day’s meeting time agreed upon, the group begins to disband.

He turns to his mother and offers her a hand up.

“You did well, Ben.” His mother’s pride shines clear and bright in the Force when she accepts his help.

It’s not enough to dispel Ben’s rising sense of unease. For all the talk, there’s been no discussion yet of the true nature of Ren’s threat against the New Republic. He’s savvy enough to understand the need to continue building trust with the Council before divulging the full scope of what they’re up against. Still, he’ll remain on edge until the truth comes out.

“I hope we are making the right choice,” he says, his eyes on the Arkanisians.

* * *

Armitage joins them in Ben’s apartment after the meeting breaks up. It’s well into the night cycle. Ben’s exhausted but too wound up for sleep. Rey and Armitage retreat into her room, closing the door behind them. Jealousy itches beneath his skin.

He pours himself a well-deserved drink and sits on the sofa to kick off his shoes. Quiet settles around him, scratchy and irritating. It leaves too much space for his pent-up thoughts. They spin around, catching like the slot machines on Canto Bight only nothing lines up and there’s no winning.

His thoughts slow as the level of liquid in his glass goes down. He leans back and looks over his shoulder at her closed door. There’s nothing. No sound. No movement. No trace of her signature. It doesn’t stop him from thinking of her.

She’s a dizzying array of disciplined power and untapped potential. Her unpredictability makes her a formidable opponent. The dull throbbing in his shins is reminder enough of that.

He tells himself the warmth rushing through him is the alcohol and not his thoughts of how it felt to hold her strength, however briefly, in his tight grip. There's so much he wants from her. It’s far too easy to imagine a different version of events, one that ends with her in his bed instead of Armitage’s.

The door to her room opens, startling him from his guilty thoughts. Ben’s surprised when Armitage returns to the common area alone after less than an hour. The strange undercurrent is back, stronger than before. His thoughts shift from Rey to the man in front of him.

There's a mixture of undeniable attraction and something much darker. He wants to take this man’s wife from him. This man who’s done nothing but show Ben his devotion and admiration and Ben intends to betray him the first chance he gets.

“She’s finally asleep.” Armitage keeps his voice quiet. “Do you have more of that?”

Ben curls the hand holding his drink into his chest and searches for answers at the bottom of his empty glass. If there are any, he has yet to find them.

“Plenty. Follow me.”

The small kitchen catches their energy, spins it into something electric and bright. Ben’s only half thinking about pouring Armitage a drink because he can’t stop thinking about the man's soft, pale skin and hot, knowing mouth. The unexpected surge of attraction unsettles him. He'll do well to remain cautious in his exhausted, disordered state.

Ben checks himself and hands Armitage a glass before filling them both.

“You have questions,” Armitage says after he’s taken a healthy sip. “Ask them.”

"Did you have your father murdered?"

The man's demeanor darkens though he is still smiling.

"Straight to business. I like that." Armitage takes another sip. "Yes. Next question."

"Why?"

"For one, he planned to align with the First Order. My father was a ruthless man blinded by his own ambitions. They promised him power and wealth in exchange for the servitude of our people. They would have made us slaves, stripped away everything that makes us who we are. We are a proud, independent people and I couldn't let that happen."

"What about Rey?"

"What about her?"

"It's been said you eliminated him to have her for yourself."

Armitage scoffs.

"Hardly. I'd planned to set her free."

"Why didn't you?"

"Rey has her own agenda. One I happen to share."

"Her Academy?"

"That came later."

Ben asks the question that's been burning inside him.

"Why do you deny her?"

"You mean sex?"

"Yes. Why? Is it because she belonged to your father?"

"Ben, it's clear you've entirely the wrong understanding of our relationship. Rey may have belonged to my father but she absolutely does not belong to me.

"I gave her the option to leave. Not only did she choose to stay with me, she insisted on getting married even though she knew I'd never physically consummate it."

It's not what Ben expected and it leaves him with more questions.

"What you're saying makes no sense."

“Because you know nothing about her.”

“So, tell me.”

“You’re sure?”

Ben fights the shiver of disquiet uncoiling between his shoulder blades.

“Yes. Tell me.”

Armitage tips his glass to his lips and takes a small taste before he speaks.

“She was alone, on her own, for at least five years before we found her.”

“Her parents are dead?”

The man’s eyes harden for a moment before he continues.

“They are now and they are the reason she ended up alone. As best we can tell, they sold her into Jakku’s economy for their own gain. In that time, she learned to survive, bought her freedom from her junk boss, taught herself languages and machines and how to fly.

“We think she was about ten when she came to live with us. I remember how fascinated I was by her. I only understood order and protocol and regimen. She knew nothing of these things.

“They brought her in a crate as though she were an animal. She stayed there for days even after they opened the crate, hissing and fighting anyone who dared get close. Fed up, my father assigned me the impossible task of getting her to come out. It took days. I brought her food and treats. Talked to her though she refused to talk back.

“I thought for a while she was mute and somehow damaged. I kept talking to her even though I’d given up on ever getting through but I wasn’t willing to let my father win. I had to show him I could deliver results so I pushed through even when the unwashed smell of her took longer and longer to get used to.

“On the tenth day, I started talking about the starships my father planned to commission. I’d been allowed the rare privilege of examining the schematics while my father gloated over my shoulder. I was halfway through my description of the new engine design when she crept out of the crate and settled just outside the opening. I hid my surprise, eyes off her, and kept talking.

“When I described a portion of the design I thought didn’t make sense, she spoke at last. What came out of her mouth shocked me. She explained in great detail the reason for the new design and exactly why it made sense. For someone so young and feral, her knowledge was exquisite.

“We talked for hours. My legs fell asleep from holding the same position while she crept ever closer.

“Exhaustion and hunger took their toll. We stopped talking. I remember vividly the terrible smell of her, vile and choking the closer she came."

Ben ignores the way his hand shakes as he refills their glasses.

“Thank you,” Armitage says before continuing. “I asked for her name and told her mine.

“When I asked if she was hungry, she began salivating. I’d never seen anything like it before. It was horrifying and fascinating.

“I managed to get her hands clean before I fed her. Once her belly was full, she let me coax her into getting the rest of her clean. She hugged me tight when I tucked her into a real bed and begged me not to leave her. I sat on the floor next to her all night, unable to sleep.

“From that day on, we spent every moment we could together. The next night, and the next, passed much as the first. After too long without sleep, I woke up one morning in her bed, her small back curled against my chest. It was clear I needed to get control of the situation. I knew I couldn’t allow it to happen again.

“She begged me to stay, even offering to sleep on the floor, when I told her it was time for me to move into my own rooms. Being alone at night terrifies her. It was her idea to share quarters. Without asking permission, I had a second bed brought in and dared my father to oppose me. The cruelest thing my father ever did was allow it to happen.

“We shared a room until the day my father took her as his bride. She was sixteen. I’ll never forget our final night together. Beyond my first offence, we had never shared a bed but that night, there was never any doubt we would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Rey make for an intriguing pair.


	9. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He doesn’t love me.” She stifles a sob. “I don’t want my first time to be with someone I don’t love.”
> 
> “I would do anything to spare you that.”
> 
> Rey pulls her face up from the warm, damp spot on his nightshirt so she can look at him.
> 
> Before he can stop her, she presses her mouth to his.
> 
> “Do you love me?” she asks when he pulls away from her unexpected kiss.
> 
> The gravity of her question tears open a chasm he’s dangerously close to falling into. Armitage hangs on the edge, torn between wanting to answer truthfully and knowing that no matter which answer he gives, nothing will ever be the same between them.
> 
> He makes his choice with the full knowledge of what it means for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favourite pairing. Reyux. And, sex. And, more **H**istory for Rey and Hux.

Heavy energy permeates their shared space, choking and tight. He wants to go to her but he’s frozen in place. Long minutes pass in leaden silence.

“Armitage?” Her voice is quiet in the dark.

He hums in acknowledgement because he doesn’t know the words to say.

“Hold me, please.” She’s already crying.

Rage and sadness prick at his eyes. His covers whisper their soft warning as he leaves his bed for hers.

Her sheets are cool but she’s warm when he slides in next to her, side-to-side.

“I’m scared,” she says.

He pulls her close until she settles her face into his chest and curls into him.

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“He’s old enough to be my father, practically _is_ my father. I don’t want this. It’s not right!”

Her hair is silky soft beneath his hand. Stroking her hair and holding her while she cries isn’t enough, will never be enough.

“He doesn’t love me.” She stifles a sob. “I don’t want my first time to be with someone I don’t love.”

“I would do anything to spare you that.”

Rey pulls her face up from the warm, damp spot on his nightshirt so she can look at him.

Before he can stop her, she presses her mouth to his.

“Do you love me?” she asks when he pulls away from her unexpected kiss.

The gravity of her question tears open a chasm he’s dangerously close to falling into. Armitage hangs on the edge, torn between wanting to answer truthfully and knowing no matter which answer he gives, nothing will ever be the same between them.

He makes his choice with the full knowledge of what it means for them.

“Yes, I love you.”

Fresh tears slip down her cheeks. Rey touches warm fingers to his face. Her kiss is artless and awkward.

He lets her explore for a while before he stops her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks in a voice that trembles.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Relax.” He eases her onto her back and scoots closer, pressing his front against her side. “Let me kiss you this time.”

Armitage waits until she settles then leans in. He presses his mouth to hers before pulling back just enough to wet her lips with his tongue before kissing her again. She keeps her mouth closed. He tries again, pressing harder at the seam of her lips.

“Please, let me in,” he whispers.

Her lips part with a quiet breath of air.

Armitage licks her lower lip once more then dips his tongue into her mouth. He doesn’t linger, giving her time to get used to the feeling. Each time he pulls away, he kisses a different spot along either side of her throat before sliding his tongue into her mouth.

He loses track of time, lost in the heady thrill of teaching her the pleasure of physical love, one sweet, shuddering gasp of breath at a time.

“I want to take my clothes off,” she says between heated kisses.

Sudden panic seizes his chest. He’s no stranger to sex. There have been plenty of others who've shared his bed. Not one of them was a woman. The implications leave him spinning.

Rey takes his lack of response as a positive. Her simple nightclothes whisper off her skin until she’s nude. She moves closer and kisses him with newfound confidence.

He’s paralysed on the fracturing edge of this fragile love they share.

“Armitage?” Her voice wavers.

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” She chokes on a sob, eyes shimmering.

“I—It’s not you. It’s—it’s me.” He’s never admitted his preferences out loud to anyone, not even himself. This is as close as he’s ever come. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Rey. I do.”

He pulls her close, throat too tight to say anything else.

"No, please! Don't leave me to him."

Armitage swallows his pain with a healthy dose of hers. It goes down thick and sour. This doesn’t have to end here. He can still show her what love feels like even he if can’t be the one to give it to her.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" He takes her hand, guiding it between the vee of her thighs.

She draws in a sharp breath.

"A little."

“Will you show me?” he asks.

“I will if you take your shirt off. I want to feel your skin.”

She helps him strip off his nightshirt. Armitage shivers as her fingers feather along his skin.

“Can I touch you?” Her fingers flutter along his waistband.

“I want you to touch yourself.”

Rey whimpers and reaches both hands between her thighs.

“That’s it,” he whispers when he hears the slick, wet sound her fingers make against her skin. “Touch yourself where it feels best.”

Rey lets him guide her, doing everything he tells her until she curls into him, shaking with release, her fingers buried deep between her clenched thighs. Hot little puffs of breath warm the bare skin between his nipples. He whispers his adoration into her ear while she comes apart in his arms.

Armitage holds her until she drifts off.

When he’s positive she’s asleep, he eases her away and rolls onto his back to take himself in hand. Furtive and guilty, he strokes until his shame spills, hot and accusatory across his bare stomach.

Night is fading into the faint blue edge of dawn when he finally falls into restless sleep.

It seems barely any time passes before a quiet commotion rouses him.

“Master Hux, it’s well past—”

Armitage’s eyes snap open. Waking in her bed leaves him disoriented. Everything is familiar and different at the same time. He props himself on one elbow and searches for the source of the voice.

It’s his father's manservant, eyes wide, face twisted and pink with shock.

“My Lord, forgive me. I didn’t expect to find you and Lady Rey—”

“Shhh!" he hisses. "You’d do well not to wake her." He sits up, careful not to disturb Rey. When he does, the sheet drifts into his lap, leaving him bare chested.

The man's eyes grow wider, his face turned crimson.

Armitage glances at Rey, panic welling inside him. She’s sprawled across the bed, only a small twist of sheet keeping her modesty intact. It doesn’t matter that he’s still wearing pants. There’s enough bare skin showing where it shouldn’t he’s certain the other man believes they are both undressed beneath the covers.

The fierce need to protect her hardens his resolve. He doesn’t bother to explain or buy the man’s silence. It would be a waste of time and credits. His father will know soon enough. Let the bastard think his son had the first taste.

“Get out.”

“But, sir! The wedding—”

“Get out!” he hisses.

After the man has left, Armitage takes his time waking her with soft touches and gentle words.

At first, she greets him with a lazy stretch and a giddy smile. Her mood breaks, turning dark and heavy when he reminds her what day it is.

They’re fully dressed and separated at room’s length when the handmaids come to collect Rey. There are no words of goodbye, no words at all. She leaves him just as she came to him, silent and caged, untouchable.

Armitage doesn’t see her again until she steps down the aisle.

He feels sick through the entire ceremony. The lavish display of rich foods at the celebration makes him nauseous. He eats nothing. Neither does she. Her sad, terrified eyes follow him everywhere, begging for rescue.

When his father finally drags her away, drunk and lewd, Armitage runs to the fresher and dry heaves until he's on the verge of passing out. He endures a second, sleepless night, his first without her in six years. He's never felt so alone.

He doesn’t see her or his father for three days. On the morning of the fourth day, Rey comes to breakfast alone. She wears a beautiful gown of dark silk beaded with pearls. Someone has done her hair up in an elaborate style, the silken strands studded with beads to match her dress. Jewels glint at her ears and throat and wrist. None of the adornments are enough to hide the dark bruise along her cheekbone.

She sits and eats, not looking at anything but her plate. It doesn't take long for the rest of the guests to take their leave whether they are finished with their meals or not.

When everyone is gone, they sit alone in heavy silence.

She lets out an anguished sob then pushes her chair back and runs for the door as fast as her skirts will allow.

Armitage races after her, catching up with her midway down the hall.

“Rey, wait! Please!” He catches her hand and keeps her from running away.

She tries to jerk free but he won’t let her.

“Hey.” He pulls her closer. “Hey. It’s me. It’s okay. It’s me. Come here.”

She folds into him with a sob, a perfect fit in his arms.

“Shhh. It’s okay.” He strokes her hair as best he can around the adornments woven into the strands and lets her cry. It reminds him of the last time he comforted her this way. The gesture is just as thin and useless this time. 

She lets him lead her into an unused room.

As soon as the door locks, he takes her back in his arms. He tries to press a light kiss beside the bruise on her face, freezing when she flinches away.

Heart in his throat, he asks a question he knows will have a terrible answer. “How badly did he hurt you?”

She looks away and brings her fist to her mouth. Her teeth dig into her knuckle while her breath hitches against bitten off sobs.

Rey lets him tighten his grip but keeps her face turned away.

The array of dark, shadowy bruises ringing her throat makes his blood boil.

“I’ll kill him for this.” 

She lowers her hand from her mouth then turns and reaches up to touch his face.

“Armitage, no.” She seems more in control of her emotions even though her breath still hitches.

“How can you say that? After what he’s done? After he… he _took_ you?”

The horrifying image of his slovenly father’s fat, naked body rutting into Rey sends fury seething along his skin. The urge to vomit burns the back of his throat.

“No! He didn’t. Couldn’t.” With her free hand, she touches light fingers to the bruise darkening her cheek then cups his face with both hands. “When he couldn’t… rape me, he settled for hitting me instead.”

He's been on the receiving end of his father’s failures enough times to know the man doesn’t stop at a single blow.

She draws in a steadying breath.

“He passed out after only a handful of strikes. I locked myself in the fresher. When I finally came out, he wasn’t there. At first, I was relieved but he left me alone, locked in with no food, only water from the fresher. This morning, two women came for me.”

_A beating and four days without food?_

Rage lights every nerve in his body. He’s never wanted his father dead more than he does in this moment.

“They cleaned and dressed me, did my hair. When they were done, they insisted I come down for breakfast. I didn’t know you’d be here or I wouldn’t have come.”

That she would choose to miss a meal, especially after so many days without, rather than see him shatters the broken pieces of his heart all over again.

"Why wouldn't you want to see me? I’ve been so worried about you. I’ve hardly slept.”

“Everything has changed, Armitage. It can never go back to the way it was between us. He’s going to keep trying until he does it and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. We had our chance. It’s gone and it’s never coming back.”

He stares at her, full of regret and helpless rage. 

Her thumb fans across his lips with gentle resignation. It feels too much like a goodbye.

Sudden heat turns him senseless. His mouth finds hers, his kiss hard and insistent.

Her lips part with a quiet gasp. She tightens her hold on his face then her tongue is in his mouth, sour with desperation.

He doesn’t care. It’s enough that she’s here, that she still loves him even if she hasn’t forgiven his failure to protect her.

Frenzied kisses and panting breath warm the space between them. She turns tempting and sweet in his arms. He trails a series of urgent, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. She moans when he sinks light teeth into the delicate skin above her collarbone. His bite turns to sucking.

“Stop!”

He stumbles back when she shoves him away. Cool air rushes in, dampening the fiery edge of his need.

His eyes dart to the place where his mouth was. Relief floods through him.

“There’s no mark,” he says.

She twists away when he reaches for her.

“It’s too late. I belong to him now. He knows, Armitage.” Bright spots colour her cheeks. Shame has overtaken her. “He _knows_ what we did! How you… how I touched myself for you. While he was trying to rape me, he kept saying over and over how he’d kill you, kill us both, if he ever caught us together like that again.”

A terrible knowledge snuffs out the last of his ardour. Brendol Hux doesn’t threaten to kill anyone. He kills them outright without forewarning. His father’s message is loud and clear.

“We have to kill him first.”

“Armitage, no. There’s another way.”

Rey settles to the floor, skirts billowing in a graceful bell around her slim waist. Her clasped hands dimple the mound of fabric when she rests them in her lap.

A heartbeat passes, then ten more before she turns her face away and speaks the four words that change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two give me a serious case of the feels. I can’t help myself when it comes to Rey and Hux. On the flip side, Rey harbours an undeniable connection to Ben. Their dichotomy has the power to destroy them or to bring them together in the most unexpected way.
> 
> Toot. Toot. The Pain Train is pulling into the station.
> 
> As always, thank you for the reads, the kudos, and the comments!


	10. Dropshock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man's contempt makes Ben furious. He grabs the front of Armitage's shirt in his fists, yanking him close before shoving him against the wall. Liquor spills down Ben's shirtfront as Armitage loses his grip on his drink. The glass shatters against the floor with a crystalline pop.
> 
> "What did you just say?"
> 
> The man's smiling. The fire in his eyes feeds the deep rosy hue lighting his pale skin. 
> 
> "I _said,_ I would rather whore her out than have to rely on your cheap, untested pedigree to get what I need." Armitage presses closer, every part of him hot and hard. 
> 
> The sharp scent of spilled liquor mingled with the dark edge of uninvited excitement clouds Ben's head. His veins flood with bitter acid. The Force riots around him, nearly slipping from his control. 
> 
> "Fuck, look at you. So full of righteous anger, and for what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for our boys to get a few things straight between them.

Armitage goes quiet. The silence stretches out until the sharp clink of glass on glass breaks the man’s reverie. Before there’s time to protest, Ben refills their drinks.

"What happened?" he asks.

The man gives him a sharp glance as he returns to the present. Armitage takes a light taste of his drink followed by a steadying breath.

"I wouldn't accept it, couldn't. It was everything wrong in the galaxy. I begged her to run away with me. Steal a ship and fly away.

"She refused, adamant we stay and find a way to use our situation to our advantage. I fought her argument for argument, neither of us gaining ground.

"She finally broke the stalemate by confiding to me she's Force-sensitive."

Like much of what comes out of the man’s mouth, Ben finds it difficult to believe. If what Armitage says is true, Rey had received no training until sometime after the elder Hux had married her.

He hadn’t learned to control his inadvertent displays of power until he’d been with Luke for some time. Even then, it had taken him years to gain enough skill to completely mask his abilities from others. He can't see how it's possible for someone with no training whatsoever to achieve it.

"You didn't know?"

If Armitage senses Ben's disbelief, there's no outward sign of it.

"No. She'd been very careful to hide it. I believe it's one of the reasons she survived her childhood, as well as her time with my father."

"Tell me the rest.”

"At first, I didn't believe her. After an impressive display of her abilities, I had no choice but to listen. She had a plan, one that included me. She didn't want anyone else to know she commanded the Force until the time was right. I agreed to keep it secret and find ways to help her refine her abilities until she became strong enough to set us all free."

A thousand questions spring to life about her training. She's far too advanced not to have had the guidance of a highly skilled Force-sensitive and Armitage is nothing of the sort. He can think of no one other than his uncle who has such ability. It isn't possible. His uncle has been missing for years, his signature in the Force long grown cold and dark. Though the questions burn on his tongue, Ben stays silent for now, wanting to hear Armitage's story in its entirety.

There's a slight tremble when Armitage lifts his glass to his lips. Ben watches him swallow. His eyes drift to the side where a dark shadow mars the pale skin of the man's throat.

“Her need for me in that moment was intoxicating. I’ve never known such desire. I begged her to come to our rooms, to give me another chance to become her lover, my own insecurities and my father’s threat be damned. She refused, assuring me we'd be together again soon. We both wept when she left to return to him."

Shadows of memory drift across Armitage's face, catching Ben off-guard with their sincerity. He steels himself, still unwilling to trust the man and his uncertain motives.

"From that day on, she began coming to me after the dinner hour, telling my father she was taking her lessons from me in all manner of subjects in order to become the wife he deserved. We studied maths and engineering, art and music, history and philosophy and languages.

"She loved the study of warfare most of all. I taught her Echani and she taught me melee weapons. We would spar long into the night until we were too tired to do more than fall into exhausted heaps beside each other on the training room floor."

Ben finds himself riveted in spite of his heavy misgivings. He realises it's entirely plausible she received a substantial amount of training from Armitage. He's seen him fight, knows he can hold his own where others would quickly fall.

"As her skill and power grew, those moments began to change. It started with touching then slowly escalated into something deeper. As our connection grew, the touching stopped. I realised early on that I would never be enough for her. She knows it too, and it makes her sad."

A small part of himself he doesn't want to acknowledge burns with savage satisfaction at Armitage's admission that she is far beyond his league.

"It broke my heart each time I had to let her go. I would always wonder if that night would be the night my father managed to consummate his marriage and whether one of them would be dead by morning. It went on for three long, agonising years.

"For a while, it seemed we'd somehow struck a delicate balance between the three of us. Logically, I knew it couldn't last and yet I found myself helpless to change anything for the most selfish of reasons."

It strikes Ben like lightning, electric and hot.

"You're in love with her."

"Yes."

“Does she love you?” As much as he dreads hearing the answer, he has to know.

"As I said, I meet a different, more intimate need for her. And, for a long time, it was enough. No longer is that the case.”

Ben swallows hard. They'd been alone in her room long enough for something physical to take place. His eyes return to the shadow along Armitage's neck.

Armitage moves closer, the rim of his glass angled toward the bottle in Ben's hand. Up close, the mark along his throat is fresh and berry-red, no doubt left recently by a pretty, pink mouth.

Jealousy sears across his skin. Ben adds more liquor to the other man's glass then sets his own drink aside, already far enough into his cups for the night.

"You finally fucked her, didn't you? Just now, in my rooms."

Scorn tightens the man's features.

"Vulgar. And, wrong. Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? She doesn't want that from me." The man’s anger radiates bright pinpricks into the Force.

"The bruise on your neck says otherwise."

Armitage presses two slim fingers to the very spot Ben's talking about.

"Rey is impulsive and driven to follow her instincts. As exciting as it is to be the recipient of her reawakened desire, I will never fully share my bed with her."

"Because you prefer men."

"No," Armitage says. "Because she is untouched in a manner of speaking and that part of her is not mine to receive."

He locks eyes with Armitage, floored.

"You mean she's a… but, surely your father."

"My father was an impotent, useless bastard who couldn't fuck his way out of a wet pile of flimsy much less handle a woman like Rey."

It’s not possible. He’s seen her intentions. She hasn’t tried to hide them from him. They are not the thoughts of someone innocent of sex.

"You lie."

Armitage lets out a disgusted scoff.

"Why would I? I have nothing to gain from it. In fact, I could make the case that it would be more to my advantage if I could whore her out to Senate members with real power in order to gain their allegiance instead of gambling on you and your pathetic, misplaced ideals."

The man's contempt makes Ben furious. He grabs the front of Armitage's shirt in his fists, yanking him close before shoving him against the wall. Liquor spills down Ben's shirtfront as Armitage loses his grip on his drink. The glass shatters against the floor with a crystalline pop.

"What did you just say?"

The man's smiling. The fire in his eyes feeds the deep rosy hue lighting his pale skin.

"I _said,_ I would rather whore her out than have to rely on your cheap, untested pedigree to get what I need." Armitage presses closer, every part of him hot and hard.

The sharp scent of spilled liquor mingled with the dark edge of uninvited excitement clouds Ben's head. His veins flood with bitter acid. The Force riots around him, nearly slipping from his control. 

"Fuck, look at you. So full of righteous anger, and for what?"

Armitage curls his hands around Ben’s wrists, locking them together.

“For all you believe you’ve accomplished in the Senate, you know _nothing_ of what it’s like to fight for _anything_ that truly matters. It’s all been so easy for you. And yet, you question _my_ motives while you continue to hide behind your family’s prestige and power instead of standing up for what is right in front of you.”

The space around him vibrates with barely controlled anger.

"Who do you think you’re talking to?" It takes everything Ben has to keep from lashing out.

Before Ben can stop him, Armitage tips his head forward until the band of stone mirror touches Ben's forehead.

His breath ceases as thoughts and feelings not his own stream across his mind.

_From the darkness rises a throne of onyx. Crimson light pools behind, spreading like blood. Rey sits far enough over the arm of the throne to rest half in his lap. Drapes of gray silk spill to the floor. His arm curls across her middle, holding her steady. Their eyes close when the man wearing Ben’s face presses a kiss to her bare shoulder._

_Her pale skin wavers, its light washing away the darkness. A new throne rises, bloodless and polished. Upon it sits a man with snow white robes and hair of fire. Rey stands tall beside him, one hand resting on the kyber globe rising from the front of the throne. On the other side, a dark warrior stands with his hand on a matching globe. This man, too, wears Ben’s face._

He lurches free from Armitage and retreats. The combination of alcohol and his raging thoughts leaves him shaking and lightheaded.

"What will it take for you to open your eyes and see what is really happening? Ren cannot be allowed to have her. With the help of his Master, he will turn her to the dark side and make her his wife. If he succeeds, they will bring death and destruction and the end of everything we love, including her."

Armitage dares a step closer. 

“She can be ours instead, Ben." Lust darkens the man’s eyes to malachite. "And together, so can the galaxy."

There it is. The truth inside the lies, meant to deceive him into a war of their own making and for their own gain. It shines clear and bright as day in the man’s thoughts. Ben is done playing the fool.

"Get out," Ben says, voice quiet and edged with warning. "Take her with you. I don't want any part of this."

"Ren’s going to kill you. He won't stop just because we leave. He'll kill your mother and father and anyone who dares to get between him and Rey. For all your questions, Ben, you've neglected to ask the most important one."

He backs away when Armitage approaches and assumes a subtle forward stance.

The man stops, body tensing.

"Careful, Ben."

The threat of oncoming violence churns between them.

"It’s you who should be careful." Ben shifts his weight, muscles coiling. "Just now, when you projected, I saw the truth. You won't be satisfied until you become Emperor of the galaxy with her at your side and me dead. You're no better than Kylo Ren."

"If you had asked me about my personal ambitions, I would not have denied them. Yes, I would be Supreme Emperor. But make no mistake. I am not anything like Kylo Ren.

"I want to bring peace and order to the galaxy with the least amount of collateral damage. Wanting doesn't make it so. We are fighting a war we cannot hope to win without you, Ben."

The air shimmers with an odd resonance, leaving him open to another flash of intrusive thoughts.

_Armitage sits upon his pale throne, attention riveted on the two bodies tangled in his bed. His eyes glitter with green fire as he watches Ben match his slow thrusts to the soft kisses he gives Rey._

Ben looks up, meets the other man's eyes. They burn with the same fever lighting Rey's. He searches for answers, finds only sorcery and coercion.

"Get out. Both of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Don't be shy! Whisper or shout at me so I know if this story is alive.
> 
> As always, thanks for the reads, the kudos, and the comments!


	11. Ascension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of recalling all the events, a single one keeps rising to the surface
> 
> _Rey_
> 
> Even now, apart from her, the magnetism she commands refuses to diminish. It pulses in his veins, threads through all his thoughts. It’s a feeling like none he’s experienced before, a strange, inescapable connection. It doesn’t matter that she's gone. Things are far from finished between them. He has no doubt she feels it, too. 
> 
> Regret pangs down his middle at having sent her away. Deep down, he knows he made the right choice. If they truly have unfinished business, their paths will cross again. He believes that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good people die and Ben becomes King.
> 
> Also, where I recast a pivotal scene from ESB, with a hint of TFA, to fit into this narrative.

They've been gone for an hour before he considers whether to inform his mother of the change in the Arkanisians' status. It won't be a pleasant conversation and there's no reason he can think of why it can't wait until morning.

All out of fight, Ben sits alone in his rooms and does his best to unwind. Instead of helping, the silence leaves a compartmentalised space open for him to unpack the chaos of the last seven days.

In the midst of rifling through all the events, a single one keeps rising to the surface.

_Rey_

Even now, apart from her, the magnetism she commands refuses to diminish. It pulses in his veins, threads through all his thoughts. It’s a feeling like none he’s experienced before, a strange, inescapable connection. It doesn’t matter that she's gone. Things are far from finished between them. He has no doubt she feels it, too. 

Regret pangs down his middle at having sent her away. Deep down, he knows he made the right choice. If they truly have unfinished business, their paths will cross again. He believes that.

On a different level, the axis of his life as he's known it has shifted, spinning ever further out of his control. The knowledge that his mother has always expected him to follow the Jedi path is a bitter pill to swallow. It changes everything. He's caught between the life he's built since he left Luke and the call he's always felt to his family’s legacy.

In many ways, he's free. In others, he remains a prisoner. There are so many unanswered questions. His mother has some lengthy explanations to give. Part of him wants to rise off the couch and demand answers from her. A bigger part hits a wall of exhaustion. There will be no winners if he forces the conversation tonight.

He's so tired, he begins stripping off his clothes as he makes his way down the hall. He drops each piece, leaving a trail behind him. Out of energy, Ben turns into the first bedroom he reaches. His own is all the way at the end of the corridor, much too far to be practical.

He ignores his knowledge that this is Rey's room. An herbal, earthy smell envelopes him when he slips beneath the sheets. He's been close enough to her to recognise her scent. Ben buries his face deeper into her pillow, wanting to fill his head with as much of her as he can get.

He falls asleep, the aching hardness between his thighs untouched.

Ben tosses and turns, dreams feverish and darkly exciting.

_Carnage and death, red lips against white skin_

Rey writhes beneath him as he thrusts into her. Sanguine blood eases the friction of her bare skin against his until he no longer knows whether she is his lover or his enemy.

Her clean, soothing scent curdles into air dank with the cloying scent of decaying vegetation. She turns to vapour in his arms. A sickening spin disorients him for a moment before Ben finds himself standing in the midst of a dense, mist-shrouded jungle. There's no sign of Rey. Tendrils of thick fog curl around his feet and lower legs, obscuring them from view. The ground is soft, slick and unstable.

_…beware the dark side… anger… fear… aggression…_

Ben listens, trying to regain his bearings after the sudden, nightmarish shift.

It's difficult to see through the trees and thick vines blocking his path. Ben doesn't need to see to know which way is forward. A mix of Force energies swirls around him, invisible and no less real than the fog clinging to everything.

_…the dark side of the Force, easily it flows. The dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it could, as it did Luke's apprentice… _

Ben struggles to find meaning in the strange, unfamiliar voice. Luke never had an apprentice, let alone one who turned to the dark side.

Breath heavy, Ben takes his shirt from a nearby branch and pulls it on.

He turns to see a huge, dead tree, its blackened base surrounded by a meter of murky water. Giant, twisted roots form a dark cave on one side. The hair on his arms and neck rises.

There's something not right here. It's cold as death.

Ben can't hold back the shiver of fear coiling down his back.

_…is strong with the dark side of the Force… you must go… _

There's no resisting the pull to enter the cave.

"What's in there?" He's surprised and no less edgy when he receives an answer.

_only what you take with you_

Ben stares at the cave with wary eyes and straps his weapons belt around his waist. His grandfather's lightsaber hangs steady and sure at his side.

_your weapon… need it you will not_

Ben remains armed. He gives his surroundings a final look before reaching up to push aside a heavy mat of vines. The entrance to the cave pulls him with an undeniable draw.

He moves through the slick interior in near total darkness. Light of the palest blue edges the path just enough to keep him moving forward. Something slithers and hisses into the darkness as it moves away.

Ben draws a deep breath, then pushes deeper into the cave.

The space expands, more feeling than physical.

A lightsaber activates, its sound like none he's heard before. There's a distinct secondary ignition.

The cave blazes to life, blood red. Kylo Ren materialises in the fiery, unstable glow of his crossguard lightsaber.

Ben backpedals, hand scrambling for his weapon.

Ren’s saber rises, the hissing end pointed at Ben’s chest.

“That lightsaber, it belongs to me.” The monster’s voice spits and crackles through the mask.

Ben steadies himself and ignites his weapon.

“Come get it.”

Ren charges, his blade swinging in deadly arcs.

Ben sidesteps, ducking beneath its crackling edge. He rises to meet Ren.

Their blades cross. Cold sparks hiss and snap between them. Ben feigns then attacks when Ren leaves himself open. He swings high and hard, both hands on the hilt of his saber.

He hits the mark, shearing Ren's head from his shoulders. The headless body stands for a moment before crumpling into a heap of empty robes.

Lines of silver glint along the severed head’s masked forehead. Ben stares at the imposing shield across the eyes and face wondering what atrocity lies beneath.

The front of the mask vaporises with a small explosion, startling him back. A thick cloud of smoke obscures what’s inside.

Ben wants to close his eyes but they're locked on the decapitated head of his adversary. He can't look away as the smoke clears.

To his horror, beneath the mask of Kylo Ren lies the face of Benjamin Amidala Organa.

* * *

A piercing klaxon jars him awake. It's the sound of nightmares. There's the distinct hollow feeling of a disturbance in the Force. Ben's not sure if it's residual from his dream or real and tied to whatever has set off the alarms.

He slides free of Rey’s bed and reverses his earlier direction, dressing while he tries to reach his mother. She doesn't answer. Ben's in the middle of trying for the third time, furious he isn't important enough for her to answer, when Wita dials in.

Ben switches to her frequency still pacing the room.

"Get my mother on now!"

It takes Ben a moment to realise Wita is sobbing. Dread rises like bile in his throat.

"Oh, gods, Ben. She's dead. Your mother is dead."

Everything goes still except for Wita's grief streaming through the comms. The disturbance he’s felt since he woke up roars to life, a black void in the Force.

"When? Tell me everything."

Ben listens with rising anger as Wita tells the story.

His mother and Amilyn had gone to the morning market. From what the Coruscanti authorities have been able to piece together, they'd been at the fresh flower stand when the thermex charges had detonated. The resulting explosions had ripped through the marketplace, cruel and indiscriminate.

“Show me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I want to see her body.”

“Highness, if I may, its already been verified by the authorities. There’s no need—”

“Show me!” Ben can almost feel Wita flinch away from her comms but he doesn’t care.

“But, sir.” Her voice is deathly quiet. “Thermex. It doesn’t… _there aren’t any bodies.”_

A hollow pit opens in his gut. Even though he already knows the truth, he needs to see physical proof before he’ll believe.

“Wita. Now.”

He thinks he hears the woman sob but it’s gone so quickly he’s not sure whether he imagined it.

The holoprojector blinks with a new message.

Ben’s feet are made of neuranium, making his steps almost impossible to take. He manages to cross the room to the projector nonetheless.

There’s silence on the other end of the line but Ben knows Wita is still there, privy to whatever comes next. He’s already scared her enough for one day. She’ll be of no help to him if she unravels. 

Ben mutes his comms and reaches a trembling finger out to start the message.

The footage is jumpy and chaotic. He’s thankful there’s no sound. The looks on the faces of the people left alive is horrifying enough without having to listen to their screams. Uniformed officers weave through shredded piles of the dead. Ben’s never seen carnage like this up-close. His gut churns at the sickening images flashing past his eyes.

The holo bounces around as the camera person fights through the shattered market. Flowers begin to bloom amidst the rubble. The gorge in his throat rises as the flowers begin to drift like piles of macabre snow. There’s a terrible pause in the holo and Ben has all the proof he needs.

His mother's distinctive jewelry and Amilyn's pale lavender hair leave no doubt.

Ben vomits the meager contents of his stomach onto the floor as the feed goes dark. His hand shakes as he wipes the foul slick from his mouth and chin. He struggles to control his harsh breathing. 

Before he’s ready, Ben unmutes his comm link.

“Wita?” He doesn't recognise his own voice.

This time, there’s no mistaking the woman’s sobs.

"They're dead, Ben. Oh gods, what are we going to do?"

Panic threatens to overcome him. Ben's at as much of a loss as to what happens now as Wita is but unlike her, he doesn't have the luxury of following while someone else leads.

He draws on everything he has to keep himself together.

"Save your sorrow for after the fight," he tells her around the sour lump in his throat. "I need you to be strong right now."

Wita lets out one last anguished sob then cuts it off.

"What are we going to do?" she asks.

His first order is for her to arrange an emergency session of the Elder Council. 

“As soon as the details are set, I’ll be sure you’re informed, sir.” Her voice is steadier than it has been since the call began.

Ben takes it as a good sign and presses on. Plans are made for him to record a message to his father informing him of the situation so Wita can bring him to Coruscant. 

Ben goes quiet as he considers his next move. 

“Anything else, sir?”

There’s an expectant pause from Wita that Ben doesn’t fill. He's hesitant, not quite ready to give her his final order even though he can’t see any choice other than to issue it. 

“Sir? Anything else?” Her need to move into action edges her voice with impatience. 

He gives the final directive before he can talk himself out of it.

"Locate the Arkanisians. Tell them to return to Coruscant by order of the Elder Houses.” He’s not entirely sure he has the authority to issue such a decree but it’s what he has for now. “When they arrive, bring them directly to my mother's quarters."

If she’s surprised by the request, she’s too professional to give voice to her thoughts.

"That's all for now," he says.

"Yes, your Majesty."

It's only after she's signed off that it hits him.

With his mother dead, he is King of Chandrila.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you are enjoying this as much as I am 😊


	12. Covenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's weeping silent hot tears into the pillow when she calls his name.
> 
> The bed dips under her weight. Warm fingers brush strands of hair from his damp face. The cool air revives him enough to acknowledge it's Rey and not an apparition of his mother.
> 
> "Ben? Don't do this alone. It's not good for you," she says.
> 
> He looks at her without saying anything. Fat tears roll down the side of his nose and seep across the tight seam of his lips. He doesn't dare open them for fear once he tastes the saline sting of loss, he'll begin screaming and never stop.
> 
> The tears staining her cheeks breaks him. Ben sobs and sits up, reaching for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reylo, fashioned out of grief and comfort dusted with the beginnings of sex and betrayal.

He waits so long, the food Wita had delivered grows cold. He isn't hungry. His comms are going crazy but Ben only answers for Wita.

"We’ve located them, your Majesty. They'll be arriving back on Coruscant within the hour."

Relief loosens his limbs. There’d been no guarantee the Arkanisians would agree to return. His command for them to do so had been shaky, at best. Even now, he has no idea whether it held any weight in their decision.

"Thank you. Show them in the moment they arrive."

Wita clears her throat but doesn't say anything.

"You're free to speak," he says.

"Majesty—"

"It's Ben, please." The new title makes it difficult to maintain his hard-fought composure. There is still so much to do, he doesn’t yet have the luxury of falling apart.

"Ben, will you be joining the Elder Council soon? Everyone is waiting. Our leadership is desperate to speak with you. We need to respond before we’re attacked again."

The weight of his obligations threatens to crush him but he needs to speak with the Arkanisians before meeting with the surviving members of the Elder Houses.

Ben gives Wita a message to relay before signing off.

Though he takes the imminent arrival of Armitage and Rey as a good sign, his next step will be convincing them to stay.

It will take everything he has left inside him. His path is already decided, has been for a long time, and none of the choices were ever his to make. Until now. Of this, he no longer has any doubt. Though he knows it isn’t true, he can’t help but feel the last ten years were a complete waste of time. He wishes he understood why his mother had chosen to divert him from his destined path.

The thought of his mother makes him lightheaded with suppressed grief. He can’t think of her, not yet, because what he is about to do will change his life forever. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, making his pulse pound in his ears and throat and chest.

Even though he feels as if he’s being torn apart, Ben knows what he has to do. Nothing else matters anymore.

He's still shaking when a quartet of armed sentries escort the Arkanisians into his mother's quarters.

_No. They're your quarters now._

Ben shoves his grief aside one more time.

"Leave us," he says to the guards. Even if he felt he needed them, which he doesn't, they'd be no match against the Arkanisians.

His guests bow before Armitage speaks.

"You wished to see us, Majesty?"

"My mother is dead."

"Yes, we know. Please accept our deepest sympathies, my Lord." The words are deferent but the man’s voice seethes with fury.

Ben's gripping the arms of his chair so tight he can't believe the fabric hasn't torn.

"Armitage." Rey's voice is full of angry warning. "Don't."

He whirls to face his wife.

"Have you forgotten so quickly? He threw us out. Now that it's too late, he wants our help? We'll find another way. Without him."

Rey closes the distance and takes Armitage in her arms. She threads her fingers into his hair and guides him lower until his crown touches hers.

A stream of energy flows into the Force but Ben can't quite grasp onto its slick, oily surface. Something passes between the Arkanisians. It ends when Rey places a light kiss on the corner of Armitage's mouth and steps away.

They face him and kneel, heads bent low.

"We are in your service, my Lord," Armitage says.

The man’s demeanor has shifted. Whatever passed between Rey and Armitage has softened the edge of his fury.

Ben doesn't stop to question how long it will last. There will not be another opportunity.

“And, I am in yours. Please accept my deepest apologies, as well as my loyalty.”

Two sets of eyes snap to his in astonishment. Neither speaks though each looks as if they have plenty to say behind their sealed lips.

Ben fights to keep his next words steady, pushing on.

“You’ve given me no reason to mistrust you and I’ve paid dearly for that mistake. My allegiance lies with you. I'll do whatever you ask so long as our singular goal is to wipe Kylo Ren from the face of the galaxy.”

The Force lights up, bright silver. Armitage’s tightly controlled fury burns dark holes across Rey’s hopeful energy as he stands to his full height. Without looking at Rey, he extends a hand to her. She takes it, rising tall beside him when he urges her to her feet.

“What, exactly, are you offering?” the man asks.

“Myself, for one. I’ll help you finish your army’s training. We’ll fight Ren together. Just as you asked.”

Armitage drops Rey’s hand and moves closer to where Ben sits.

“What else?” the man asks.

“We need time we don’t have. The three of us can’t train our army and hold back Ren’s forces. We’ll need reinforcements to buy us time to strengthen our position.

“The Council of Elders is already assembled and waiting for our arrival. If we present a united front, it will be very difficult for them to turn away when we ask them to join the fight. If they won’t do it for me, they will do it in honour of my mother.”

“And, if we refuse?”

“If you refuse, I am going after Kylo Ren without you.”

Dead calm settles between them. Nothing moves for long moments.

“We accept your offer,” Rey says.

“Agreed,” Armitage says.

A layer of tension eases from Ben’s shoulders, allowing him room to breath and to think.

They spend precious minutes on their approach to the Council. It’s decided Ben will make the initial ask and Armitage will follow with the strategic plan.

When they finish, Ben and the Arkanisians join the newly thinned group of Elders. His mother and Amilyn were not the only casualties of the market bombing. The Governor of Coruscant and six other dignitaries are also dead along with countless civilians.

As the new ranking Elder by virtue of his mother’s death, Ben takes the floor. The Arkanisians stand to either side of him. An overwhelming sense of fear sits heavy and dark in the air.

Ben starts off with an impromptu eulogy to his mother. He pulls back just before the sharp edge of grief can shred his defenses. In the pause, Ben pledges his new allegiance to the Arkanisians before announcing to the gathered members that Kylo Ren has declared war and left them no choice but to respond with equal aggression.

“We will need every resource available to the Council if we’re to have any chance of victory,” Ben says.

He bookends his request for war with another reminder of his mother’s demise.

“If Leia were here, she’d say, ‘save your sorrow for after the fight.’ And, that is exactly what we must do.”

Dissent and distrust ripple through the Council, growing louder with each passing second. Ben doubts it’s a secret he ordered the Arkanisians away and then had to call them back. His sustained mistrust has fueled their fire. Furious arguments break out over Ben’s leadership. It’s infuriating.

“Call to order!” Ben has to shout over the din.

“Order!” He pounds his fist against the railing. “This Council will come to order!”

Uneasy quiet settles over the room.

“I realise this isn’t what you had hoped to hear. The situation speaks for itself. There have already been two failed attempts on my life and one successful one on my mother’s, among others. It’s only a matter of time before we’re attacked again. If Ren can’t get to me, who do you think he will go after? We are all vulnerable. If we fight together, we have a real chance.”

"If what you’re saying is true, we have no recourse but to surrender. Most of our planets are peaceful. We have no weapons or armies strong enough or large enough to engage them. It's suicide."

Four systems pull out, refusing to embroil their people in the conflict. Two systems who lost Council members pledge all their resources to the fight. It sets off another round of bickering. They're getting nowhere while time runs out.

"If what he's saying is true, we need to fight! You give way to an enemy this evil with this much power and you condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission. The time to fight is now!"

"Councilors, please!" The room quiets to low whispering. "The Elder House of Chandrila gives the Emperor of Arkanis the floor for five minutes.”

Armitage steps forward without hesitation, eclipsing Ben, and begins to speak. The man outlines his strategy in clear, concise detail. The room falls still and silent at last as the members listen in rapt attention.

Armitage closes his plea for help by offering something in kind.

"We stand ready to bring our resources and alliances into the fight but we need the full support of this Council or the odds are too great. None are willing to join without unanimous support at the highest level," he says.

"I still say it's suicide! You're asking us to sacrifice our people to give the Empress time to train a Force-sensitive army? It's madness. The Jedi are nothing but followers of an ancient, hokie religion. You'll get us all killed!"

"We are not Jedi, Councilor,” Rey says. “And, we are not asking for unlimited time or resources. Our army is already almost fully trained," Rey says. "We lack only two critical components. Time is one. We need you to hold off Ren’s forces long enough for us to gain the strength we need to defeat him.”

"What's the second? Credits? I assume you expect us to pay for this, as well?"

It's Ben who answers.

"No, Councilor. Not credits."

"What then? Spit it out, Benjamin."

Ben clenches his fists in an attempt to control his anger at the obvious lack of respect.

"It's Majesty," he says, reminding them again of his new place in all this.

"What else are they asking for, _Majesty?"_ There's venomous challenge in the words.

"Me. They need me to complete their army's training."

A roar goes up as his words sink in.

"Madness!"

"Suicide!"

"...only option?"

Ben's had enough.

"Silence!"

The room goes quiet except for the furtive rustle of clothing.

Ben continues before someone else can interject and derail the conversation.

"Even if we don't secure full support, we are taking what we have and moving forward. There will be no surrender. They will simply have to kill us all. For all my mother fought and died for, it would be a great injustice to stand by and let Kylo Ren rise to power without a fight. You are either in or you’re out."

The dissenters are escorted from the meeting with an open invitation to return if they decide to pledge allegiance.

Once they are gone, discussions begin over strategy and weapons, infantry and supply lines. A rough plan forms, ranks and duties assigned. It's agreed Ben will record a message for immediate release on the HoloNet declaring their intent to engage. They'll only get one chance. Ren’s First Order has proven their ability to suppress negative propaganda.

They expect it, plan for it. The message isn't for the galaxy. It's for Kylo Ren. Regardless, the more who see it before it disappears from the HoloNet, the better.

The meeting breaks up with an agreement to reconvene in the morning. There is still much to decide.

It’s well into the night cycle by the time they're free.

The rest of the Council retires to their quarters or the dining hall for a late meal leaving Ben alone with Armitage and Rey. They're headed toward the turbolift that will take them to their rooms.

"The apartment we shared before is yours for as long as you need it. You've been given access to the secure comms line in my quarters." He chokes on the sudden swell of grief. Holding it in makes his skin burn.

"Majesty, if I may?" Rey says.

Her use of his new title tears deeper into his defenses, letting pent up guilt stream across his heart. He can't answer, the lump in his throat making it too tight to get the words around.

"You shouldn't be alone. They may make a third attempt on your life while they think we are weakest."

She's right but he doesn't want to share his anguish with them. They are practically strangers.

"We will stay out of your way, Majesty," Armitage says. "You won't see us unless there's trouble."

Ben's out of fight. Exhausted and heartbroken, he relents.

"Fine, but only for tonight. Then you stay in your own rooms."

They don't like it but it's all he's offering.

When they reach the penthouse, Ben retreats into one of the two guest rooms, unable to claim his mother's space as his own. What’s left of her isn’t even in the ground yet. As usual, he's waiting for his father but no one's been able to reach him.

Alone at last, the dam breaks. Ben sinks into a chair too small for his large frame, folding in on himself as the guilt crushes him. His clothes are too tight, choking and suffocating. He rises with an anguished yell, stripping everything off with angry pulls, tearing more than one seam in his haste to disrobe.

Ben drags himself into the fresher desperate to wash the stain of his failure from his skin and keep the Arkanisians from listening to his heartache. He's in so long, the water grows icy.

He's shivering, too cold and too hot all at once. Without bothering to dress, Ben slides beneath the sheets and tries to smother his pain. His mother's scent is everywhere.

He's weeping silent hot tears into the pillow when she calls his name.

The bed dips under her weight. Warm fingers brush strands of hair from his damp face. The cool air revives him enough to acknowledge it's Rey and not an apparition of his mother.

"Ben? Don't do this alone. It's not good for you," she says.

He looks at her without saying anything. Fat tears roll down the side of his nose and seep across the tight seam of his lips. He doesn't dare open them for fear once he tastes the saline sting of loss, he'll begin screaming and never stop.

The tears staining her cheeks breaks him. Ben sobs and sits up, reaching for her.

She tenses when the sheet drifts into his lap, leaving him bare from the waist up. Even so, she lets him pull her near. Her knees straddle his hips, legs bent under so she can settle across his lap. Rey cradles his face in her hands giving him no choice but to look at her unless he closes his eyes.

He keeps them open, touches every part of her face with his eyes because he's not quite sure she's real.

"I failed you, Ben. Twice." Her fingers trace the length of the healing wound carving across his face. "This. Your mother.” She chokes on the last. “I wasn’t strong enough. I’m so sorry."

When he finishes watching the apology fall from her lips, he closes his eyes and presses his mouth to hers.

She's warm and soft. Real.

He tightens his arms around her and buries his face against her neck.

She holds him close, one hand tangled in his hair, and lets him cry into her.

Rey whispers in a language he doesn't understand, its rhythm like a quiet prayer.

He doesn't remember when but at some point her words of comfort turned to kisses. Her lips light on his cheeks and eyelids and forehead.

Ben opens his eyes. There's so much he wants to say about why they can't do this. He tries to speak but the only thing he can manage is the quiet, strangled sound of her name.

The threads of desire she’s woven pull taut. Everything else burns away, incinerated by the heat of her.

Ben slides his tongue between her lips, touching and tasting, letting her do the same. He fumbles with her clothes desperate to feel her skin even though he knows, _knows,_ it's for all the wrong reasons.

She undoes her belt, her mouth never leaving his. The fabric she wears loosens when she pulls the leather straps free. The buckle clanks against the floor.

In too deep, Ben tugs the gathered material off one shoulder, baring it to his touch.

Rey's moan makes his blood surge. She rocks in his lap when he trails his kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. She leans away long enough to pull the lengths of material free. The fabric whispers off the side of the bed, sliding to the floor with a quiet hiss.

He leans in, sinks light teeth in the warm rounded curve of her shoulder.

She tangles both hands in his hair, holding tight.

"Take it off," she says when he plucks at the edge of her breast band.

Used to lacy straps with simple catches, it takes him a moment to figure out how to free her of the utilitarian band. At last, it unwinds.

When she's bare, he pulls her to him, skin on skin. She's warm, alive and his. Her hands touch every bit of him she can reach.

Ben finds her mouth again, needing the taste of her. He groans in her mouth when her hand dips beneath the sheet to grip the hard length of him.

Ben pulls her hand away, teetering on the edge of what's right and his desperate need. He threads their fingers together then presses his palms against hers so he can put some space between them.

"What's wrong?" Uncertainty edges her voice.

"Nothing. Everything." This needs to stop before it's too late.

He holds tight when she tries to pull free of his grip. There's nothing he wants more than to finish what they've started. The bright promise of release rises along the edge of his mind.

"Armitage." Ben's drowning in a sea of desire and this single word is his final lifeline.

"He has no place in this."

"It's not that simple, Rey."

Undeterred, she rocks against him, as strong and unstoppable as the tides of the Silver Sea. Rey tightens her grip on his hands and holds him steady so she can lean in.

"It can be." Her words whisper across his lips with the promise of a thousand lifetimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been very quiet in this little corner of the fandom. All I know is my therapist is earning her money while I work through my post-TROS emotions. I have so _many._
> 
> If you are interested, this installment is set to _They Do Exist_ by Cerulean Skies.


	13. Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben holds tight so she can't move, can’t get away.
> 
> "Stop," he says but she won’t.
> 
> She's too close. There's nowhere to go. He can’t keep her from kissing him. Can’t keep himself from kissing her back. 
> 
> There’s only one way to be sure. His fingers thread into her hair, catching on the edges of her crown. He pushes until the slim metal band rises over the top of her head. Ben kisses her hard when she protests. Her crown slips free, tumbling down her bare back. 
> 
> The Force loosens between them. She’s there, slipping through the cracks, filling his head with dark temptations, exposing treacherous, traitorous thoughts he doesn’t want to acknowledge, even to himself. It’s intoxicating.
> 
> “Ben,” she whispers between kisses. “You’re still holding on. Let go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s three-alarm fire time. 
> 
> Pretty sure there's a plot somewhere in the midst of all the sex. No? Well, I tried 🤣
> 
> If you enjoy music with your fiction, this is set to 'They Do Exist' by Cerulean Skies

Alarms go off inside him. Ben finds himself on treacherous ground, caught in her powerful allure. He leans away, desperate for space.

"Rey… "

"Please, be with me. We won't get another chance."

She frees her hands and slides them over his shoulders, crossing her arms behind his neck until he’s caged.

"Be with me." She’s warm silk against his skin.

Ben holds tight so she can't move, can’t get away.

"Stop," he says but she won’t.

She's too close. There's nowhere to go. He can’t keep her from kissing him. Can’t keep himself from kissing her back. 

There’s only one one way to be sure. His fingers thread into her hair, catching on the edges of her crown. He pushes until the slim metal band rises over the top of her head. Ben kisses her hard when she protests. Her crown slips free, tumbling down her bare back.

The Force loosens between them. She’s there, slipping through the cracks, filling his head with dark temptations, exposing treacherous, traitorous thoughts he doesn’t want to acknowledge, even to himself. It's intoxicating.

“Ben,” she whispers between kisses. “You’re still holding on. Let go.”

Her mouth finds the side of his neck. She sinks little teeth into the vulnerable flesh where his pulse pounds.

Panic rises, bright and sharp. She’s going to rip his throat out, leave him to bleed out until he’s discovered, naked and compromised.

Her sharp bite turns to open-mouthed kisses.

He tightens his grip, pushing her down into his lap. Ben moans at the tingling rush, clinging to the thinnest edge of control.

She finds her way back to his mouth. Her tongue meets his, urgent and insistent.

The last of his restraint disintegrates, leaving him breathless.

Ben moves with her as she eases her weight back. His palms land on either side of her shoulders when he braces himself against the bed to keep from crushing her as he pivots into her.

She doesn't stop pulling until he bends his elbows enough to meet her kiss. The hot press of her body beneath his leaves him no escape. There is no turning back.

Ben's mouth touches hers then slides down. He kisses under her chin and along her throat, dragging himself lower until he reaches her nipples. He licks, then sucks each delicate peak.

Her fingers tangle in his hair as she arches into him with a quiet gasp. He curls one arm beneath her back to hold her close while he kisses his way down her stomach. His tongue dips into her navel then licks a wet stripe to the edge of her leggings.

Rey's hips push forward in invitation. He undoes the fastenings and curls his fingers into her waistband. She helps him get the material free of her curves so he can pull them off.

Ben groans. She's not wearing anything underneath. He places a light kiss just above the neat patch of hair between her legs.

Her breath hisses when he dips lower and presses his nose into her. The scent of her fills his head. She jolts when he takes a small taste. Her fingers tighten in his hair and pull, urging him up.

He rises, planting his elbow at her side. Ben settles next to her, careful to keep most of his weight off her. He brushes his thumb across her lips before sliding his fingers into her hair. Ben rolls into her for a soft kiss.

Her mouth opens with a quiet intake of breath, inviting him in. She kisses him back, strong and sure.

Ben trails his fingers across her cheek and down along her throat. Each place his fingers touch, his mouth follows. The secret place behind her ear. The hollow of her throat. The shadows beneath her nipples. Ben touches then kisses each one.

He savours the way her breath stutters in anticipation of the kiss she knows follows each light touch of his fingers. Her belly hollows when he kisses the rise of her hip and the shadow beneath.

He kisses a line down her trembling thigh. His name hitches in her breath when he sinks light teeth into the skin just above her knee. She tries again to pull him back up.

“Not yet.”

Ben slides off the end of the bed. He kisses the top of each foot then grips her ankles and guides her until she rolls onto her stomach. He bends her knees until he can climb back onto the bed and rest her shins against his chest.

She hums in appreciation at the press of his lips to the soles of her feet. His hands glide down the curves of her calves. When he reaches her knees, he angles himself free of her legs, letting them fall on either side of him against the bed. He takes a moment to admire her spread out before him. Like a starving man before a banquet, there’s so much he wants to touch and taste and try.

_Not yet_

Ben kisses behind each knee then trails his lips up the back of her thighs, each in turn. His thumbs dip into the dimples low across her back giving his fingers space to curve around her waist until she’s caged in his hands.

He presses a kiss to the hollow of her spine.

She arches off the bed with a violent giggle.

“That tickles!”

“Mmm, does it?” Ben tightens his grip around her waist then kisses her in the same spot.

She giggles again and tries to squirm away, her skin slick against his.

Ben bites back a groan and tightens his grip, holding her in place.

“I think you like it,” he says and does it again.

She yelps his name then laughs in earnest and Ben’s never heard anything so sweet and pure.

Her laugh fades into a quiet moan when he kisses a little higher on her back. Encouraged by the change in her response, he kisses higher still, earning him another quiet moan. Ben works his way up, careful not to touch her with anything but his mouth. When he reaches the top, he hovers over her then dips his head to place a light kiss against her shoulder.

Ben rolls away until he’s lying on his back next to her, not touching.

She pushes herself to her elbows and snaps her face his way, eyes questioning.

“Go ahead. Take what you want, Rey."

She sits up, her hip and thigh pressed to his. Aside from the small bit of contact, she doesn’t touch him, choosing instead to take in every part of him with her eyes first.

When she’s had her fill, she leans in. The muscles of his stomach jump when she presses her lips to the spot just above his navel. Rey moves higher, finding the hollow beneath his rib cage, the shadow between his nipples, his mouth.

Ben moans as she slides on top of him. The solid heat of her weighs him down. Rey threads her fingers through his. Her hair whispers across his cheeks when she kisses him. He wants to touch her but she has his hands pinned to either side of his shoulders.

Rey presses into him, the slick centre of her dragging across his cock.

His shoulders rise off the bed giving him space to thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Ben pulls his hands free of hers and sits up until she’s seated in his lap. One hand grips a handful of her ass while the other settles between her shoulder blades.

She’s small in his arms, delicate. Ben kisses her as he rocks her against him. He keeps the pace slow, steady, relishing the change in her breath and the movement of her body.

He drags it out, holding tight to keep her from speeding up. As slow as he wants to go, there’s no stopping the rising urgency. He can’t keep her mouth from devouring as much of him as she can. His grip relaxes, giving her more freedom to move against him.

She rises up almost onto her knees, her hot centre sliding up the hard length of him.

At the top, his cock catches in her tight well.

Rey gasps and bares down.

Before Ben can stop her, the head of his cock notches into her.

Against every instinct, he pulls her free. His breath stutters as he settles her back in his lap, the hard length of him trapped between their bodies.

Her whine almost undoes him.

Ben squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to focus.

“Is this really your first time?” He has to be sure because he isn’t. Her kisses are too sure, her touch too full of experience.

She tilts her face down and shifts against him, hot and needy. Her answer is too quiet to hear. A blush blooms across her cheeks, spreading out until it pinks the tops of her shoulders. She won’t meet his eyes.

He places two fingers beneath her chin and tilts her head until she looks up.

“Say it again.”

Rey swallows hard, the muscles of her slender throat moving beneath his fingers. There’s a shine in her eyes that’s dangerously close to tears.

“_Say_ it,” he

“You'll be my first.”

_gods_

He places a gentle hand across her cheek then pulls her in for a soft kiss.

She lets out a quiet gasp. He presses closed lips against hers before he pulls away.

“Why me?” he asks.

“Please, don't ask me that. Not right now.” Her voice catches but she says nothing more.

He can’t breathe, can’t do anything but revel in the feel of her. He doesn’t dare ask again for fear her answer will bring this to a sudden, crashing halt. To move is to make it real. He can’t risk it, doesn’t want to let her go just yet.

Rey saves him, saves them both.

“It’s always been you,” she whispers.

Her body arches into him, skin hot and slick, stealing his thoughts before he can make sense of them.

Ben wraps his hands around her waist. He changes her rhythm, guiding their bodies together in a slow, upward pull.

She shivers, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder, digging in for purchase. The pressure when they reach the top leaves them both breathing hard. Her other hand digs into the thick muscle along his side.

He’s ready when she bares down, making sure she can’t impale herself on him.

“No, _please.”_ Her breath hisses out as she slides down the underside of his cock instead of onto it.

Ben holds her tight when she settles in his lap, the entire length of him nestled deep between her thighs.

He rocks with shallow thrusts, letting the fat head of his cock slip between her skin.

Each time she moans, heat coils tighter within him, gathering like an electrical storm.

“Let me make you feel good first,” he says.

Ben slides one hand down her waist until he can slip his thumb between their bodies. He drags the thick pad over her slick heat, increasing the pressure with each pass until her skin parts beneath his touch.

She arches into him, fingers digging into his shoulder and side. Her hips push forward, straining for as much contact as she can get.

“Will you come for me, Rey?”

She whimpers.

Ben pulls his hands free so he can rest his palm against her cheek. He brushes his thumb, slick with her need, across her lips before sliding it between her lips.

“See what you’re doing for me?” He sinks his teeth into his lower lip when she sucks.

Rey swirls her tongue around his thumb then pulls away. Her cheeks hollow as she slides off.

Ben groans when she kisses him. Her faint tang ghosts across his tongue.

“Mmm, so sweet,” he says.

He wraps an arm around her waist and loses himself in letting her lead.

She’s strong and confident, her hands and mouth no strangers to giving pleasure. Rey sucks and bites, pinches and grinds. She turns serpentine in his arms, slithering against him with the most delicious friction.

Ben’s orgasm thunders to life. He stills her, breathing deep until his need subsides enough to control.

“Not yet.”

“Ben.”

“Shh. Lay back.”

He settles against her as she eases onto her back.

Her fingertips touch his cheeks and lips before she brings his mouth to hers.

“Please,” she says.

The edge of Ben’s control slips for a moment before he takes it back.

He kisses his way down her body, pausing to pay special attention to her nipples. Ben moves lower, savouring the way her belly turns concave with each kiss.

Her hips rise off the bed when he drags the flat of his tongue across her swollen outer lips.

Ben threads his arms beneath her thighs and curls his hands over her hips so he can hold her down.

She hisses, her head turning into the pillow when he licks her again, slower. His tongue parts the seam of skin letting her flavour spread into his mouth. He flicks the tight knot at the top then sucks. His arms strain to hold her down.

Ben reaches around her hip until his fingers are close enough to pinch her swollen folds between his fingers. The skin blooms, pink and inviting, when he squeezes. He laps his tongue against the tight flesh, relishing the way her hips rock in his grasp.

Her gasps turn to moans when he flickers the tip of his tongue against her clit. A bright pink pearl squeezes between her pinched folds. Ben sucks it between his lips. He curls his tongue around the tight little bud and strokes.

Rey’s moans turn to cries when he stops touching her. His name whispers off her lips followed by a plea.

Instead of taking what he wants, Ben returns to the beginning.

She shivers when he draws himself up next to her but offers no protest. Rey kisses him first, touching him again at last. Her fingers glide along the tight curves of his chest. His stomach jumps under the light draw of her fingertips. She curls a hand over his hip and pulls him close until their skin touches.

Ben leans into her until she settles back on the bed. His mouth finds the side of her throat.

Her palms touch his shoulders, urging him lower. Ben kisses her pulse, her collarbone, the round knob of her shoulder before rising up to start again on the other side. He takes one of her hands, guiding it to his cock.

Ben groans against her skin when she wraps her fingers around the end of his shaft. His hips push forward, sliding through her grip. When he bottoms out, she drags her fist along his length until just the tip of his cock rests in her hand. He pushes forward again, licking in slow, descending trails.

At the swell of her breast, he touches the tip of his tongue to her skin. Ben spirals in smaller circles until he reaches her nipple. She hisses when he closes his lips over the sensitive peak.

His cock springs free of her grip when she grabs his hip. The fingers of her free hand claw into the muscles of his lower back when he repeats his slow exploration of her other breast. He sinks light teeth into the pebbled flesh.

Ben lays on his side next to her and rests his hand low on her belly. His fingers slide between her thighs at the same moment he leans in to ease his tongue into her mouth.

Rey arches into him.

Ben withdraws, then pushes back in. Her teeth scrape along his tongue while her clit drags between his fingers. At first, she kisses him back, eager and engaged. It takes surprisingly few strokes before she loses her ability to focus on his mouth.

Ben lets the tip of his middle finger dip lower, teasing her entrance. Her opening tightens around his finger.

She presses her hips up. A tremor ripples up her body, ending with a loud moan

When she settles, Ben draws his fingers across her slick skin. He keeps a slow rhythm, giving her enough control to guide his movements. She ruts against him, moving quicker, pushing longer and harder against his fingertips with each stroke.

Ben sinks light teeth into her nipple, scraping across the pebbled skin as he pushes the tip of a finger into her.

She draws in a high, sharp breath.

He eases up, lets his fingers find her tight pearl. He pinches and rolls it between his fingers, teasing until she’s moaning into his mouth.

His own need surges, drawing tight in his abdomen. Ben pushes his hips forward dragging his cock along her skin, desperate for more friction. He leaves a slick trail along the outside of her thigh.

His fingers curl into her, the tips sinking deeper than before. He sweeps his fingers along the tight edges. Fighting his own need, Ben takes his time, letting her relax under his gentle, insistent pressure. He slowly works her open until she’s almost ready to take him.

He returns to kissing her and stroking her until her little gasps of breath become the telltale little ohs of an impending orgasm. Ben keeps up the rhythm as he eases himself onto his knees between her thighs.

She’s spread out before him, precious and rare. Rey pushes herself up on her elbows, eyes hotter than the mid-day sun as she watches him touch her.

“Oh, gods, Ben.” Her eyes close as her head tips back. She’s rocking into his touch and Ben can _feel_ her approaching the edge. It's right there in the Force, electric and hot.

He grips his cock with his free hand.

Rey hisses when he lines himself up. She straightens back up, teeth sunk deep into her bottom lip.

Ben uses the slick from his aching cock to ease the slide of his fingers against her. He draws her closer to release, letting her push herself onto his cock at her own maddening pace. More and more of him slips into her but its never enough.

The sheets are a tangled mess in her hands. When she cries his name, Ben can’t stop himself from pushing to meet her.

They both gasp and go still when the head of his cock stretches her enough to push inside. For a moment, Ben’s afraid to move. His fingers move first, stroking her in long, slow swipes. Ben nearly comes when her body tightens around him.

She’s moaning and cursing, her hips beginning to snap each time he touches her.

Her words run together, faster and more desperate.

She takes her eyes off his hands and cock long enough to meet his stare.

“Oh, gods, gonna…” It's all she manages before her back arches.

He thrusts into her, feels her body resist then open to accept more of him.

Her orgasm sears to life, heady and strong. He does his best to keep his thrusts shallow while she comes on his cock. He tries to hold on but it’s no use.

Ben pulls his hand from between her legs and repositions himself over her. He forces himself to go slow so he doesn’t hurt her. She ends him when she grabs him with both hands and pulls him into her.

He growls and thrusts as deep as he dares before pulling back and thrusting in again. Ben lowers himself so he can get close enough to kiss her.

Her hips rise to meet him each time he pushes back in, a little deeper each time.

He breaks away from her mouth to bury his face against her throat. He’s halfway in and still he wants more.

When she whimpers, Ben withdraws, giving her a moment to adjust. His arms tremble from need and the strain of holding his weight above her. He keeps the head of his cock just inside, rocking gently to ride her through the afterglow of her release.

“Can you take all of me?” he asks.

Her small breasts rise and fall with her rapid breath. She stares at him with glazed eyes, mouth slack. A delicate hand reaches between them until her fingers touch the place their bodies join.

He jerks when she presses fingertips along his shaft.

Ben sits up, legs bent under him. His hands are huge against her thighs. She lets him ease her knees wider before moving.

She curls forward, outstretched fingertips gliding as far as along his length as she can reach. Ben groans at the slow draw of her fingers. At the root, she drags her touch back until her fingers reach his end and her beginning.

He’s left aching when she draws her hand away.

Rey’s hand skate over the tops of his thighs. Strong fingers dig into his muscles, urging him forward. He resists, sliding out of her instead of pushing in. It will be over too soon otherwise and he’s not finished with her yet.

When he doesn’t give her what she wants, she takes it for herself.

Her hands move between her thighs. She spreads herself open with two fingers so she can touch herself with her other hand. Slim fingers skim past her opening, gathering the slick. She smears it across her skin over and over until she’s moaning each time her fingers glide to the top. A deep flush colours her chest.

Riveted, Ben watches her bring herself to the edge a second time. His eyes dart from her fingers to her face and back. Ben gives in with a heavy groan. He grips her hip with one hand to steady her, then sinks into her one agonising slip at a time.

Her breath catches when he forces himself to pause at the halfway point. The pace of her fingers speeds up to compensate.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Hysteria edges her voice in platinum.

She rocks forward when he presses a firm palm just above her mound. The sound she makes as he pushes in deeper against the pressure of his hand nearly undoes him.

A strangled moan escapes his throat when he slides all the way into her.

He holds still, riveted by the way she’s stretched around his cock. She tightens around him each time her fingers drag across her clit.

“Move.” She rocks into him, straining for more. _“Please.”_

It’s this final, desperate plea that breaks him. He rises until he’s angled down into her then pulls back and thrusts in. She takes him a little faster. He moves again, trying to pace himself to give her time to adjust to his full size. His fingers dig into her hip when he feels her open fully.

“Oh, god.”

He thrusts harder, giving her only a brief pause each time he bottoms out.

She’s begging, this fierce, powerful woman is begging for him, for his cock.

He keeps her there, riding the edge, until her pleas turn to babbling prayers that push him beyond his limit.

Ben lifts his palm from her lower belly to give her better access herself. He grips her hips with both hands, sinking in fast and hard. Without pause, Ben begins to move in earnest. It only takes three deep thrusts before she unravels completely. Her thighs clamp against him. The hand between her legs switches from furious rubbing to pressing down hard as she comes on his cock for the second time.

He doesn’t let up even when she snatches her hand from her over-sensitive skin.

She turns her face away, hands fisting the sheets. Her hips rise to meet him, riding him all the way to the hilt each time.

Ben comes without warning, spilling into her. Even then he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until the last of his seed has filled her. He curls over her, shaking, his forehead to hers, hands planted beside her shoulders, cock still buried deep inside.

When he can think again, he finds her mouth with his. He peppers her face with gentle kisses between quiet, tender words of adoration until he grows soft and slips out of her.

Sated drowsiness steals over him. He rolls to one side and pulls her back to his chest. His arm slips across her hip, holding her close.

Rey draws a hushed, shuddering breath and settles into him.

They’re quiet, cradled together in the warm, sated darkness. For the first time in too long, the world drifts away on calm, dark seas. He floats free, unmoored from everything.

_Nothing's changed. There’s no escape, Rey. We’re a dyad in the Force. Unbreakable._

_we'll see_

Ben jolts awake, eyes snapping open. The unfamiliar surroundings and latent Force energy disorients him. He pushes himself up on one elbow to gain his bearings.

His eyes jump to Rey, fully dressed and with her weapon ignited. She shimmers, blue and transparent. Beyond her, Kylo Ren shimmers with the same pale opacity, unarmed for now.

“You are hard to find,” Ren says.

“You’re hard to get rid of,” she hisses back.

Ben scrambles from the bed, full of animal awareness.

Rey turns toward him, screaming his name. Her hand rises, a low hum pulsing toward him. Her Force-push shoves him off his feet. He lands hard enough to rattle his teeth and knock the wind out of him. It leaves him stunned and breathless. Dazed, he can only watch as things unfold.

Rey whirls around to face Ren, weapon ready.

“You haven’t told him yet.” Ben can hear Ren's surprise in spite of the voice modulator.

“He knows enough.”

Ben’s sure that terrible mask is aimed directly at him.

“He knows we’re—”

“Don't!”

Rey charges at Ren with a scream. Her saber spins with frightening accuracy. The first blade passes through Ren, carving a molten line into the wall behind him. Her second blade slashes across the first mark, leaving a jagged, burnt cross in the durasteel.

Unscathed, Ren moves closer.

“Stop running and I won’t have to.”

Rey holds her ground against his advance.

“The dark side is in our nature, Rey. Give in to it. Take your place at my side and I’ll let him live.”

“You’ll die first,” she says.

“We’ll see.” The Force wavers as Ren vanishes.

Rey stumbles back as she retakes her solid form.

Ben gains his feet at last, searching for his pants. He fumbles a little but manages to pull them on just before the door to his chambers hisses open.

“Rey?”

Armitage slides into Ben’s room, blaster drawn.

“He’s gone.” She deactivates her saber and clips it to her hip. Her breath comes in sharp pants.

Armitage’s eyes move to Ben. Confusion pinches his brows.

“What happened?” He lowers his blaster but keeps it in hand.

“We must have fallen asleep. I felt a threat. When I came to investigate, Ren was here.”

“Here? How?” Armitage’s fingers tighten on his blaster. “Where is your crown, Rey?”

Ben's eyes snap away from Armitage's weapon to her forehead. Her fingers touch the pale band of skin where it should be. Ben looks to the bed. A slim curve of silver glints amidst the tangled sheets.

Armitage moves first. He holsters his blaster before leaning over to retrieve it.

“It must have been some fight for you to have lost your crown in another man’s bed.”

“Give it to me,” she hisses.

Armitage holds it up between two fingers, admiring it from different angles.

“Perhaps its usefulness has come to an end.” The hand holding the crown falls to his hip.

“Give it. To me.” Her eyes glitter like black diamonds in a face gone pale.

There’s an open challenge Ben doesn't like. Threat tingles between his shoulder blades but he holds still.

“I created it. I can destroy it,” Menace edges Armitage’s words with furious warning.

The fight leaches from Rey, leaving her limbs loose.

Ben holds his breath, afraid to move while he watches.

“Please, don’t.”

Armitage extends his free hand.

“You know what you have to do,” he says.

Rey edges closer but doesn’t take his hand or touch him. Her eyes drift closed as he pushes tangled strands of hair off her face.

"You reek of him," Armitage says as gentle, trembling fingers slide her crown back into place.

Ben feels it take hold in the Force, dampening her signature.

Without opening her eyes, Rey moves onto her tiptoes, face tilted up. She stops just short of kissing Armitage, the barest hint of space between them. There's an electric pause before she whispers something in a language Ben doesn't understand. 

Whatever she's said lowers the threat. Armitage eases her back with a gentle push. Neither spare him a glance as Armitage spirits her away.

Ben flinches when the door to his chambers hisses shut, leaving him trapped inside with the raging tempest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. I hope you found this installment worth the wait.


	14. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve thwarted two targeted attacks against him. His mother is dead because they weren’t focused on her. They were focused on him. Somehow, despite all his mother commanded, they deemed his life more important than hers.
> 
> The stunning realisation sends him spinning off-balance once more.
> 
> He can think of no scenario where it makes sense. Something isn’t right. He’s missed something crucial. All the more reason to keep them close.
> 
> Ben tells himself these things and more in an effort to force himself to make his next move because the personal cost is so very high. To do what must be done means giving up the guest room for them. It leaves him with the choice between the second guest room, the one his father occupies on the rare occasions he decides to grace them with his presence, or his mother’s rooms.
> 
> In the end, he can’t bring himself to lay in the sterile space where his father’s shadows hide, choosing instead to move into his mother’s rooms where shadows of a different kind lurk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s get down to business, shall we?

Ben stares at the door long after they’ve gone. Mind in turmoil, he doesn’t know where to begin. He braces himself against the oncoming storm. It’s no use. Too much has happened. His control slips like thin wire through his grip, slicing deep into his tenuous hold.

Ben lets go with terrifying ease.

The Force crashes over him, trapping him beneath its thundering waterfall of sensory input. There’s just enough space not to drown. Overwhelmed, he turns, arm flashing in front of him.

His saber smacks into his grip with satisfying familiarity. It’s hissing ignition harmonises with Ben’s howl. He swings, high and hard, fury aimed at the bed, slashing over and over, long after it’s fallen to his fiery cobalt blade.

The rage leaves as quickly as it arrived. Small bits of flame lick at the ruined sheets. Breathing hard, he deactivates his saber and clips it to his belt. Ben raises his arm toward the savaged bed. All it takes is a clenched fist to snuff the fires. Thin wisps of smoke drift through the air, heavy with the scent of ozone and burnt celluloid.

His breathing slows as the haze clears.

They’ve thwarted two targeted attacks against him. His mother is dead because they weren’t focused on her. They were focused on him. Somehow, despite all his mother commanded, they deemed his life more important than hers.

The stunning realisation sends him spinning off-balance once more.

He can think of no scenario where it makes sense. Something isn’t right. He’s missed something crucial. All the more reason to keep them close.

Ben tells himself these things and more in an effort to force himself to make his next move because the personal cost is so very high. To do what must be done means giving up the guest room for them. It leaves him with the choice between the second guest room, the one his father occupies on the rare occasions he decides to grace them with his presence, or his mother’s rooms.

In the end, he can’t bring himself to lay in the sterile space where his father’s shadows hide, choosing instead to move into his mother’s rooms where shadows of a different kind lurk.

Ben issues a series of orders.

Repair droids arrive to begin the work of turning the ravaged guest room back into quarters suitable for his returning guests.

He uses the time to think. When everything is ready, he sets things in motion.

“Bring them to me,” he says.

“At once, your Majesty.” The reply is crisp and clear through his comms.

The Arkanisians are escorted into his mother’s penthouse, accompanied by a platoon of soldiers. Like the last time he summoned them to his presence, Ben dismisses the guards.

“The protection order my mother issued still stands,” Ben says when they’ve finished their formal greetings. “You’ll remain in my service until I release you.”

Armitage shifts, body tensing for an argument.

“Your Majesty, if I may disagree. The New Republic Senate rules are clear. Upon death of the issuer, protection orders are negated. We are free to leave at will.”

Ben gives him a tight smile.

“True, with one exception. If, upon death, both a kingdom of the Core Worlds and the highest rank in the Elder Houses passes to one person, that person shall have sole discretion of all decrees issued by the decedent.”

Armitage’s already pale skin washes clean of colour.

Rey turns to Armitage, eyes blazing.

“Is it true?” Her fury is evident in her clenched fists and bright cheeks.

Armitage spares her a quick glance before locking eyes with Ben. “No.”

Ben crosses the room until he has what he wants. He extends his arm, offering Armitage the datapad.

“Go ahead. The relevant law is already highlighted.”

Armitage takes the datapad in two hands, eyes on the screen.

A quick swipe reveals the text. Tense silence fills the room, itching against Ben’s skin like static.

“You can’t do this.” There’s a sharp edge to Armitage’s words.

“It’s done.” Ben reaches forward to swipe the screen. A new document appears.

The man’s rising fury boils into the Force as he reads.

Ben doesn’t understand the words Armitage speaks to Rey. He doesn’t need to. The slump in her posture says it all.

She blazes with fury and no small amount of fear when she meets Ben’s stare.

He ignores her silent plea. Whatever she’s facing, it pales in comparison to what he’s up against.

“Paragraph IV states that you are to remain with me at all times.” Ben draws on the powerful emotions cascading through him for strength. “You’re being moved into the guest room here. Droids have already been dispatched to retrieve your belongings.”

The scarlet hue of fury has replaced the stark white in Armitage’s face.

“This is outrageous. If you think for one moment—”

Ben moves fast, arm flashing toward Armitage. He tightens his grip, feeling the slender phantom column of the other man’s throat through the Force.

Armitage’s fingers fly to his collar, digging in desperation against Ben’s invisible choking hold.

“The penalty for defiance…” Ben squeezes until Armitage falls to his knees, face turned crimson. “Is death.”

“No!” Rey launches a powerful wave of energy at him, knocking Armitage free of his grip.

The other man falls to his hands and knees. He gasps for breath, one hand rising to his violated throat.

“Ben, please, we’ll do what you ask.” Her hands fist in his shirt. “Just please, don’t kill him.”

He rips her hands from his clothing and pushes her away.

“It’s war you wanted, it’s war you’ll have.”

Rey rushes to Armitage’s side. She helps him up until they stand together. They watch in silence, giving no further argument, when the service droids arrive with their belongings.

* * *

It’s late in the afternoon. Three days have passed since the market bombing and no one has yet claimed responsibility. The story fades from the HoloNet headlines faster than Ben is comfortable with. It smacks of suppression.

He sits alone at the large dining table. It’s set for a celebration that will never happen. His chosen corner is in disarray, the tableware shoved aside without care to give him room to work.

Ben does his best to stay focused. There are reports to read, orders to approve, and funerals to plan for his mother and Amilyn. His father is still unaccounted for. Ben has long since stopped caring. There are more pressing issues at hand.

Like the fact that Armitage has yet to return from his meeting with the Elder House oversight committee. A meeting Ben was not invited to, and for good reason.

In a vote of confidence, Ben has agreed to the committee's unprecedented request to review each of his mother’s open decrees to ensure there are no conflicts of interest or abuses of power in the orders he chooses to enforce or negate. Armitage has clearly moved his dissatisfaction with Ben’s order to enforce his mother’s protection decree to the top of their agenda. 

Despite Ben's certainty in his argument for enforcing the order, he grows more anxious and uneasy as the hours tick by.

His thoughts turn from Armitage to Rey. It’s been three days and three nights of pure, unadulterated torture. Though she occupies Ben’s physical space, in every other way she's cut him off completely. It’s a feeling of emptiness so acute he’s constantly aware of its maddening void. She’s an ache he can’t relieve and it's beginning to tear him apart, one hour, one minute, one second at a time.

She's spent the time since Armitage left deep in meditation. The little flares of energy she's been giving off have him wound tight as a drum. He's not sure which is worse, the total void of her earlier retreat or the rapid-fire pulses of her Force energy he's had to endure over the last few hours.

He's caught off guard when Rey emerges from her room.

Ben follows her with his eyes as she flits around looking for things to keep her busy. It's the first time they've been alone since he made love to her and it's as though he doesn’t exist.

He watches her in silence for as long as he is able, his mother's eulogy forgotten. His hands curl into fists against the tabletop.

“Stop that.”

She goes still and silent, refusing to look his way.

“What would you like me to stop, Majesty?” she asks, her back to him.

“That damnable humming you make.”

She straightens, her posture stiffening.

A brief flash of memory, one not his own, skips across his thoughts. A young girl, hair pulled back in a treble of messy buns, talks to herself, switching between two languages while she fixes herself a hard-won meal of stale polystarch and pretends she has company for dinner.

“My apologies, your Majesty. It’s an old habit that helps me feel not so alone. I don’t always know I’m doing it.”

Ben swears under his breath and drags a hand through his hair. He’s such an asshole.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s fine. You had no way of knowing.”

She keeps her back to him, silent and withdrawn, and resumes puttering. Her restless agitation needles under his skin almost as much as the empty void she conjures between them.

Ben's had enough. He draws a dark curtain over his signature, allowing him to edge toward her. If she notices, she doesn't let on, perhaps too absorbed in rewiring a malfunctioning comm switch near the kitchen door to sense the change in him.

She yelps and tries to spin away when his hands span her slender waist. Ben holds tight, using just enough power to keep her from sliding away. The warm strength of her back against his chest makes his knees weak.

He crosses his arms over her belly, hugging her tighter to him. It's like touching a live wire.

Ben's powerless to keep himself from burying his face against her shoulder. Her clean scent is overlaid by the darker spice Ben recognises as Armitage. Jealousy edges out the last of his reason.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks.

She's rigid and unyielding in his tight grasp.

"Let go of me."

He can't, won't.

"Rey, please."

She tilts her head away when he presses his lips to her neck. All it does is give him more room to indulge himself in her warm skin.

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do," he whispers between kisses. "I'll do anything you ask, just please don't cut me off this way."

Rey twists in his grasp then her hands are in his hair, her tongue in his mouth.

Overcome by the sweet taste of her, Ben presses her back to the wall and kisses her senseless until he runs out of air.

She pulls him off by his hair, breath as ragged and needy as his.

"Let me go," she says again. "Please, Ben, before it's too late."

"Too late for what?"

She closes her eyes and settles her cheek against his to keep him from kissing her.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. He promised me it wouldn't happen." Her voice is quiet, whisper-soft against his ear.

His stomach knots with equal parts hope and dread.

“You’re so lonely. So afraid to leave him.” Ben lays her fear bare at her feet.

She's trembling, her dreams solid and clear between them.

“At night, desperate for sleep, you imagine an ocean, an island. I see them.” He presses closer, letting his memories of the Silver Sea flood into the Force. “They are yours, if you want them. I'll give you anything you desire.”

“Stop, _please.”_

There is no stopping.

"Don't be afraid." He buries his face in the gentle space along her neck. "I feel it, too."

A low humming pulse forces space between them.

“Ben, there are things you don’t know.” Her clipped, hissing tone raises the hair on his arms and neck.

Undeterred by her warning, he catches her face in his hands until she has to look at him.

Anguish darkens her eyes, leaving only fiery glints of yellow.

"There's so much...I—I want to tell you," she whispers.

“So, _tell me,”_ he whispers back.

Her lips part with a shuddering intake of breath.

Before she can say anything more, the main door to their chambers hisses open.

Time has run out once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are looking forward to the second act as much as I am. I can hardly wait.


	15. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The buzzer at his door sounds, snapping him from his mediation before he can press for more. Ben opens his eyes, glancing up in annoyance. It’ll be their last ditch effort to keep him on Coruscant. Curiosity at who they’ve chosen to represent them spurs him to answer.
> 
> Anticipation spikes in his gut at the thought that perhaps he's wrong and it's Rey.
> 
> When his door swings wide, it’s the last person he expects. His burgeoning excitement curdles, turning sour and unpleasant.
> 
> “Han Solo.” Ben’s been waiting a long time for this.
> 
> His father drags a hand across his thinning brush of hair, uncomfortable and determined after so long apart. He’s older, the lines in his face etched deeper, hair more gray than brown. A haggard man worn thin by a life lived on the run.
> 
> Ben meets Han’s look, hating the way his father’s broken expression makes his own eyes prick. This man doesn't deserve his tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben has a final piece of business to resolve on Coruscant before he blows this popsicle stand.

Rey wrenches herself from his hold and pushes him away with more force than necessary. He stumbles back but remains upright. She glides into the kitchen like a phantom just as Armitage arrives in the main room.

He greets Ben with a begrudging, wary bow. The man’s eyes skip across him, accusatory and full of mistrust.

"Where's Rey?"

"In the kitchen."

"Is everything alright, your Majesty? You look as though you're coming down with something. If I may suggest, perhaps you’re not getting enough sleep."

Ben stands tall, ignoring the hot burn he gives off.

“My mother’s funeral is tomorrow at dusk. The three of us are leaving for Arkanis early the next morning,” he says.

The man’s eyebrows rise while the rest of him goes rigid. He stays where he is, hands clasped low behind his back.

“Is that so? I don’t believe you have Council approval, Majesty.”

“A small detail easily managed,” Ben says.

Armitage gives him a cold smile.

“The Council does not share your confidence. Your claim to the highest Elder rank is in question. By rule of law, your uncle is next in line for the Elder House appointment. Unless you produce solid evidence of his death, the Council will not grant you full rank.”

The revelation steals the breath from Ben's lungs. It’s ludicrous. Everyone knows his uncle is dead even if the circumstances surrounding his death are vague. As Luke’s closest living kin, only his mother had the power to declare him legally dead. She had refused, holding firm to her belief that he would return one day, triumphant once more.

That same power now rests in Ben’s hands but it’s too late. Raising a motion to have his uncle declared dead at this point will only create more barriers. It’s no longer an option and options are something he is quickly running out of.

Armitage unclasps his hands and pulls a small datapad from his pocket. He holds it out to Ben.

“Go ahead, the relevant passage is highlighted, your Majesty.” The man manages to keep his face blank.

As angry as he is, Ben makes himself read through the entire document. The paragraph after the committee's decision to stay Ben’s claim to his position on the Elder Council gives him leverage.

“The Council is upholding the protection order,” Ben says.

“With the designation that Rey and I may choose to stay in quarters separate from you.”

Ben hands Armitage his device. Of one thing, he is certain. If he leaves Coruscant, they are bound by law to remain with him until either he or the Council grant their freedom.

“Stay in your own rooms or stay in mine. It makes no difference in the end. We are leaving for Arkanis the morning after my mother’s funeral. As I said, I am taking what I have and going after Ren. You are either in or you’re out.”

A range of emotions moves over Armitage’s face. Strange that there are no accompanying ripples in the Force. He’s made no previous attempts to mask his energy from Ben.

“Very well, then. Convince the Elder Houses to support your decision. A transport will be waiting for you at zero six-thirty on LP-2187. Until then, do try and stay alive, your Majesty.”

They stare at each other, no words left to say. Armitage moves first, tucking his datapad back into his pocket.

“Rey, darling, come out from where you’re hiding. It’s time to return to our rooms to rest. We have a long journey ahead of us."

* * *

For Ben, the remaining day and a half are a blur of endless meetings and messages and people who insist on speaking with him. Of all the difficult agreements he’s had to forge, the one where he leaves with the Arkanisians is the one with the least support. It makes no difference to Ben. He’s going and there’s little point in further discussion.

The Elder Council at last grants him temporary authorisation to leave Coruscant though they stop short of agreeing to war. It comes at the cost of having to endure their harsh words of displeasure at his insistence that his leaving is a necessary part of their overall strategy. It’s a fragile truce he’ll need to manage carefully over the coming days.

Alone in his quarters and away from the hustle, doubt settles heavy across his mind. He considers his motives for leaving even as he instructs the service droid on what he wishes to bring. Its movements are efficient and without emotion, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.

He closes his eyes, face going slack. His shoulders relax, followed by the rest of his body, until the darkness behind his eyes becomes his consciousness. The initial shockwave of renewed Force-energy has dissipated, leaving behind a chaotic, dangerous space.

_…beware the dark side… anger… fear… aggression…_

Ben jolts, fighting to stay in the dark space. His eyes remain closed while his body returns to its loosened state.

_…your destiny… consume you it could…_

“Who are you?” Ben speaks the words into the empty room.

_… your question that is to answer…_

The buzzer at his door sounds, snapping him from his mediation before he can press for more. Ben opens his eyes, glancing up in annoyance. It’ll be their last ditch effort to keep him on Coruscant. Curiosity at who they’ve chosen to represent them spurs him to answer.

Anticipation spikes in his gut at the thought that perhaps he's wrong and it's Rey.

When his door swings wide, it’s the last person he expects. His burgeoning excitement curdles, turning sour and unpleasant.

“Han Solo.” Ben’s been waiting a long time for this.

His father drags a hand across his thinning brush of hair, uncomfortable and determined after so long apart. He’s older, the lines in his face etched deeper, hair more gray than brown. A haggard man worn thin by a life lived on the run.

Ben meets Han’s look, hating the way his father’s broken expression makes his own eyes prick. This man doesn't deserve his tears.

“Ben, I—your mother. Leia.”

His father dissolves into a bundle of loose limbs and damp heat in Ben’s arms.

Ben staggers back under Han’s weight before regaining his footing. Though he remains stiff and unyielding, he pulls his father into his rooms and closes the door.

He fights against the crushing weight of his own heartache, keeping strong to give his father time to regain his composure.

After what seems an eternity, his father disengages, stepping away to put space between them.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Ben does his best to keep the vitriol from his voice. “Her funeral is tonight at sunset.”

“Her—”

“I waited as long as I could for you. Decisions had to be made.” Ben's words are bitter in his mouth. It's the entire history of their relationship distilled into two short sentences.

At this, Han hardens.

“Like your decision to leave on this fool’s journey to Arkanis?”

Fury rises in him.

“You’re one to speak of fool’s journeys.”

His father’s grief vanishes as quickly as it arrived. He becomes the hard-talking scoundrel he is.

“It’s the girl. I get it.” He chuffs. “Believe me, I get it.” A brief wave of grief washes across Han’s face. “Infatuation isn’t reason enough to burn down the galaxy. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Ben.”

It’s Ben’s turn to let out a choked laugh.

“Do not ever compare yourself to me, Han Solo. I’ve never run away from anything and I’m not running now. I didn’t start this but I will finish it.”

Determination sobers his father’s expression.

“Rey is using you for your power. Once she has what she wants, she’ll crush you.”

The Force shrieks and howls around him, compelling Ben to draw his saber and strike but he won’t.

“You know it’s true.” Han takes a step closer, posture easing.

Ben stays out of range.

It doesn’t matter. Han’s not finished.

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

Ben shakes his head and side-steps away from his father's reach.

“It’s too late,” he says.

“No! It isn’t! Stay here. With me.”

So, they have sent him to do their bidding. Ben scoffs. His father, a manipulator to the end, even now when the small pieces that remain of his mother lay waiting for burial.

“As if I’d ever fall for that again.” He can’t keep the contempt from his voice.

“Ben—”

“Don’t you dare.” He’s seething. “Don’t.”

The look on his father’s face almost breaks him.

“Selfish to the end. This isn’t about you. Not any more,” Ben says. “Tonight, at sunset. After that, I don’t care if I ever see you again.”

It’s not true but Ben’s beyond caring about the way Han flinches as his words sink in.

“Go away.”

It takes everything Ben has to stand tall and unmoving as his father reaches out a hand and places it along the new scar on Ben’s cheek.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”

He replies without mercy.

“Then your life has been wasted.”

The last spark of hope dies in his father’s eyes. Han turns away, leaving without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next stop, Arkanis and all its enchantments.


	16. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dropping out of lightspeed in ten, nine…” The countdown continues but Ben’s no longer listening. It’s too early. They’re nowhere near Arkanis. Dread tightens his stomach. He fastens his harness, ready for the jolt.
> 
> As soon as it passes, he’s up out of his seat. A crew member rushes toward him, blocking the corridor that leads to the cockpit.
> 
> “Sir, my orders are to return you to your quarters.”
> 
> “What’s going on?” 
> 
> The man draws his blaster, pointing it square at Ben’s chest. It’s set to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said we were going to Arkanis. I never said the trip there would be easy.

It takes a long time for the stench of charring flesh to wash clean from his pores. So long, he burns through a full day's water ration in a single go. Ben brushes his teeth over and over, desperate to scrub the wretched taste of his mother’s eulogy from his mouth. The copper tang of blood from his ravaged gums lends a layer of ominous finality to his future.

He spends his final night on Coruscant wandering alone through his mother’s rooms. They’re an eclectic mix of vibrant colours and textures, an embodiment of the woman herself. It’s heady and terrifying and liberating.

His mother has always marched to the beat of her own drum, followed her heart even in the face of great adversity, no matter how high the personal cost. Ben promises himself he’ll honour her with no less. There’s no sleep for him as he steeps himself in her lingering presence.

Morning arrives, bright and full of sunshine, same as the day before. But Ben knows the truth. His life has reached a tipping point and nothing will ever be the same. Too wound up to eat, he finishes getting ready instead.

He arrives at the hanger ten minutes early. The Arkanisians are nowhere to be seen. Aside from the crew, no one comes to see him off. Ben shrugs off a shiver of dread and allows himself to be escorted aboard the starship.

It’s a smaller vessel but well equipped. Ben is shown to cramped but private quarters. The items he’s chosen to bring are already waiting for him.

Given no instructions relative to his freedom, Ben escapes his room the first chance he gets. He’s alone as he scouts the ship. Some doors are unlocked, the fresher, the galley. Others remain sealed when he attempts to gain access. He lets them keep their secrets for now. There’s no point in drawing unwanted attention to himself if he doesn’t have to.

He works his way toward the cockpit. Despite the circumstances, he’s intrigued by the ship’s design. It’s sleek and efficient in a way that piques Ben’s interest. To his surprise, the cockpit is unsecured. The crew tolerates his presence as they break atmo.

“How far to Arkanis?” he asks after they’ve jumped to lightspeed.

“Fourteen parsecs,” the copilot answers. The cockpit goes silent except for quiet in-flight chatter.

Ben hangs around until his stomach reminds him that he has other needs. There's no indication anyone other than himself and the crew are aboard. He turns away, heading to the galley alone.

His food choices are fresher and more varied than expected. He selects a plate of sweet granadilla and Gamorrean pork knowing they'll keep him satisfied for a while. Ben's most of the way through his meal when the air resonates, dampening the ship’s ambient sounds.

_Ben_

He looks up, the fine hair on his arms and neck rising. Other than the strange auditory distortion, he’s alone. Except he isn’t. The presence of others thickens the air.

_Beware_

The voice has a distinct familiarity he can’t quite place. He stays quiet, waiting to hear it again, needing to be sure.

_She is not who you think she is_

The voice is different and somehow still familiar. It’s disconcerting.

“Who is she?” he asks aloud.

The spell breaks as an announcement goes out over the ship’s comms.

“Dropping out of lightspeed in ten, nine…” The countdown continues but Ben’s no longer listening. It’s too early. They’re nowhere near Arkanis. Dread tightens his stomach. He fastens his harness, ready for the jolt.

As soon as it passes, he’s up out of his seat. A crew member rushes toward him, blocking the corridor that leads to the cockpit.

“Sir, my orders are to return you to your quarters.”

“What’s going on?”

The man draws his blaster, pointing it square at Ben’s chest. It’s set to kill.

Ben raises his hands, palms open. “Easy. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Sir, if you’ll just—”

They both turn at the sound of a door hissing open. The man blanches as a slim figure glides into the corridor between them. A small hand waves before his face.

“He doesn’t need to return to his quarters,” Rey says.

Ben bites back his surprise, remaining quiet and still even though he’s vibrating with barely contained energy.

“You don’t need to return to your quarters, sir.” The man’s voice is soft and unfocused.

“You’re tired. You need to sleep.”

Ben stares at her the entire time it takes for the man to mimic her words and shuffle off to what he presumes are the crew’s quarters.

“It’s Ren. He’s come for you,” she says without preamble or explanation.

At the mention of Ren, his lingering dread turns ominous. Ben has a very bad feeling about this.

“What do you mean, he’s come for me?”

“There’s no time to explain. We have to take control of this ship. Can you fly?”

If the urgency in her voice is any indication, this isn’t the time to gloat over his piloting skills.

“Yes.”

“Good. I can subdue the rest of the crew while you maintain our position.”

“We,” he says.

Her eyebrows pinch in. “We?”

Ben flashes an open hand in her direction. Her saber smacks into his palm. He flips it into the air, catching it square in the middle before offering it to her.

“_We_ can subdue the rest of the crew,” he says.

A wary smile drifts across her face before she takes back her weapon. “Point taken.”

A turbolaser blast rocks the ship, knocking them both off-balance.

“We have to hurry,” she says before turning toward the front of the ship.

Between the two of them, it takes less than a minute to empty the cockpit. Ben takes the controls, looking through the viewport for the first time.

What he sees takes his breath away. A super star destroyer dominates his field of vision. Even more threatening is the swarm of TIE fighters racing toward them. Their sheer numbers black out the stars.

He glances over his shoulder when she follows after the retreating crew. There’s no time to ask what she’s doing or why. If he doesn’t start flying, they’ll be vaporised and it won’t matter where she went.

Another blast flares across the ship’s shield with a dull, rocking thud.

His eyes dance over the various readouts as he gets his bearings on the ship’s feedback systems. Sweat rolls into one eye, stinging and hot. He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. They have to get out of here. There’s no time to warn her. He pushes buttons and turns dials before pulling them into a steep ascent.

The ship banks, streaking away hard enough to pin him to his seat.

“Whoa, this thing really moves,” he says to no one.

His tracking computer beeps, indicating another ship’s impending missile lock. There’s a cry of surprise behind him when he zips right and down before braking. A TIE flings past the viewport. Ben pulls hard, lining up his own shot. The TIE disintegrates into a starburst of sparks. He opens the throttles, streaking forward to the high-pitched whine of sublight engines.

The ship regulates the g-force, making it easier to move.

She drops into the copilot’s seat. A thin line of blood runs from her hairline down one cheek.

“I can’t outrun them,” he says as he takes out three more TIEs.

“You don’t have to.” She’s bent over, fingers flying across the console.

A klaxon sounds as they take another direct hit against the rear shield. He concentrates their defences.

“If I don’t lose them, they’re going to kill us.”

“No. He’ll never allow it. They’re not trying to kill us, they’re surrounding us so we can’t escape.”

“They’re doing a good job.” He swerves as TIEs swarm around their ship, marveling at the way they keep their distance without breaking formation. There’s an eerie, unnatural pull on the Force that pinches his shoulder blades together. Something’s not right about all this.

_Ben_

The sharp edge of panic slices up his spine. His grip on the controls tightens.

“I’m going to make a run for it,” he says.

“No! Maintain our course.”

She rises from her seat, hands reaching for a panel overhead. Her fist bangs against the durasteel, popping it open.

“There’s no more time. If we don’t jump, we’re finished.”

“Don’t jump. I’ve almost got it.” Her fingers dig through a nest of wires. Sparks make the beads of sweat on her skin glitter like precious jewels.

“Got what?”

“Shut up and let me do this. I’m going to count down from three. When I say one, kick out the thrusters and jump to lightspeed.”

“Are you crazy? The navicomputer isn’t set for anything. We’ll be pulverised.”

“Three!”

“Rey!”

“Two!”

Ben swears and primes the hyperdrive. There’s no more time for doubt.

“One!”

He pulls down on the throttle. There’s a brief pause where everything stops then they’re shooting forward. The stars surrounding them elongate into the blue-white streaks of hyperspace.

She turns toward the viewport, one open hand stretched forward, the other clenched into a tight fist behind her. The Force thrums to life, heavy and concentrated around her as she guides the ship through uncharted space.

The controls kick beneath his hands. It takes supreme effort and more than a little help from the Force to keep them on a straight trajectory. Somehow he knows it’s easier for her to navigate if he doesn’t deviate from their current course. The violent shaking intensifies, setting off an alarm. He resets it without letting go of the controls.

“Drop out of lightspeed then jump back in. Aim for the Corellian Trade Spine,” she grits out.

The knuckles of one hand blanch around the throttle, ready to pull back once he types in their course change.

“Here goes,” he says.

They lurch out of hyperspace. He counts eight TIEs following. They keep pace along either side of them as they blow over the shipyards of Corellia. Ben jams their next destination into the navicomputer.

“Now!”

Ben makes the next jump, slinging them in a new direction.

“Again! Draw them toward Hosnian Prime. We’ll lose them there.”

This time when he drops out, a forest planet covered in lakes skips below their ship. He weaves between tree tops, still chased by eight TIEs.

The ship responds to his commands, slinging around until they’re moving in the opposite direction. It gives him the opportunity to take down two enemy ships while the others recover enough to turn and give chase.

“Jump!”

“Not yet.” Ben designates their next destination. He waits until the remaining TIEs are nearly upon them before whipping the ship around and making the jump in the opposite direction. Almost as soon as they enter hyperspace, he pops out and reprograms the navigation before jumping again.

A small purple planet fills the viewport when he drops out for the final time. Before he can react, a massive pressure wave hits their ship, knocking it from Ben’s control for a brief, heart-stopping moment. He regains his grip and pulls up as another shockwave hits the hull.

“Ben!”

“I know, I know.”

Alarms go off when they take another blast. Smoke pours from an overhead compartment. Rey’s up in an instant, hands dug deep inside the ship.

He feels it coming. This time, there’s enough space for him to push back with the Force before the shockwave hits. The jolt is manageable, making it much easier to course correct.

The smoke clears and the alarms go silent. He barks out a set of coordinates as she drops back into her seat.

She finishes programming the navicomputer.

“Jumping to lightspeed,” she says before pulling the throttle.

It’s their longest jump yet. Tense moments pass with nothing but the blue-white spiral of hyperspace breaking across the ship’s surface.

The prolonged silence kicks Ben’s thoughts back into motion. He sits forward, taking her in, looking for confirmation.

She’s still and distant. Something is very wrong.

“What did we just do, Rey?” he asks.

Glassy eyes meet his.

The sick feeling in his chest tightens.

“What did we do, Rey?”

Her silence enrages him. He’s up out of his seat before he can check himself. There's a brief moment where his hands curl around her arms to pull her to her feet before he’s flying backward. The back of his thighs connect with the control panel, lighting up the nerves. He breaks free of her phatom hold and rights himself but doesn’t move any closer.

“Answer me.”

The threat of violence edges the air as she faces him. The Force lies thick between them.

Her silence strikes him like bare fists to the sternum. His head spins in an ugly direction.

“He knew.” Adrenaline spikes through his veins, setting his heart loose in his chest. “Ren knew I’d be on this ship.”

“We made sure of it,” she answers. “This transport wasn’t taking you to Arkanis, Ben. It was supposed to deliver you to Kylo Ren.”

The blood drains from his face.

“We didn’t come to recruit you to train Jedi. We came to make you claim your rightful place among the Sith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Above all, be kind and generous to others in these times of uncertainty.


	17. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hatred burns bright in his veins. “Lies, like everything out of your filthy, scavenging mouth.” Ben shifts his weight against the rising threat.
> 
> “No.” Her whispered denial, it’s too much.
> 
> Rage ignites behind his eyes. He'd been right, almost from the beginning. "How long?” 
> 
> “Ben, please. Listen.”
> 
> “How _long,_ Rey?" His arm shoots in her direction. He squeezes until he feels the slender tension of her neck fluttering in his phantom grip.
> 
> Her hands fly to her throat. “Leia knew." She chokes out the words against his crushing hold. "Your mother..._knew."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight deviation from our original course. There is entirely too much going on here. Time to consolidate some things.

Ben’s emotions boil over. He attempts to overpower her, caught off-guard by the strength of her resistance despite his full use of the Force. The struggle sends them careening through the cockpit. Different parts of his body light up with pain as he bounces against seats and ricochets off equipment panels. They stumble through the doorway into the main corridor where the fight continues until they reach a breathless stalemate.

Rey shoves him away hard enough to send him flying back. A temporary truce descends as they each try to catch their breath.

"You're with him? Kylo Ren?" The words electrify him to the point of making his skin burn.

She's shaking her head. "I am not with him but I owe him."

A piece snaps into place with stunning clarity. "You're his apprentice."

"Yes."

The implications of her admission makes his knees weak. Memories flash through his mind, highlighting each point over the past few weeks where something’s been off, wrong, things he's justified away to fit his shaky narrative, things that have new meaning. Ben leans against the wall to keep from sinking to the floor. Piece after piece snaps into place as his mind careens along this new path.

“You killed my mother. And, Amilyn, and all those innocent people.” Nausea rolls through his stomach, threatening to unseat his earlier meal. His eyes meet hers. "You tried to kill me."

She’s shaking her head. “No, I swear. I _swear._ That was never part of the plan. We were only supposed to convince you to leave Coruscant with us without raising any alarms." The regret written across her face leaves him unmoved.

Hatred burns bright in his veins. “Lies, like everything out of your filthy, scavenging mouth.” Ben shifts his weight against the rising threat.

“No.” Her whispered denial, it’s too much.

Rage ignites behind his eyes. He'd been right, almost from the beginning. "How long?”

“Ben, please. Listen.”

“How _long,_ Rey?" His arm shoots in her direction. He squeezes until he feels the slender tension of her neck fluttering in his phantom grip.

Her hands fly to her throat. “Leia knew." She chokes out the words against his crushing hold. "Your mother..._knew."_

That stops him cold though he doesn't relax his grip while he tries to process what she's insinuating. Impossible that his mother handed him over willingly.

The sharp ozone of rising energy taints the air. Before he can react, a sizzling hum sends the floor spinning out from under him. He crashes down hard, back against durasteel.

She's standing over him in an instant, saber spitting yellow fire beside his cheek. Her other hand rubs her throat while she sucks in air.

"I don't want to have to kill you. But I will.” Her eyes shine like obsidian. “Nothing is more important than breaking free of him. Not you. Not even Armitage."

He doesn’t need the Force to know she’s dead serious. He eyes her saber. Even if he had a shot at her weapon, which he doesn't, he's not sure he could take her, especially when she has so little to lose by killing him. It allows a cooler head to prevail. Ben slumps to the floor before rolling away and pushing himself up.

He keeps his posture loose and open even though a tempest rages just beneath the surface.

After a tense moment, Rey deactivates her saber and eases her stance to match his.

"Start talking," he says.

"Once we're safe on Arkanis, not before."

Ben's anger flares, reigniting the tension between them.

"He's coming for us. We have to get back to Arkanis."

"Rey—"

"If he catches us, nothing I have to tell you will matter because the war will be over and he will have won."

_Fuck._ His hands clench into fists. She's right. He knows she's right even if it leaves him angry and frustrated. Ben shifts his focus to their immediate problem. "We need to get off this ship.”

"I have allies waiting for us on Atzerri."

"Of course, you do." His options are limited to this until they land. He may be stuck with her for the time being but he is not her prisoner yet. For now, they share common ground.

“We’re not done here, not by a long shot.” Ben turns away, heading for the cockpit. Her quick footsteps chase behind him.

He takes the pilot’s seat, his focus on reaching their destination as he straps himself in. The sooner they get there, the sooner he can break free of her. It annoys him that the person he wants to talk to most right now is his father. “We’re off course. I need to drop out of hyperspace and recalibrate.”

There’s relief when she slides into the copilot’s seat and fastens her harnesses. “Ready when you are.”

The ship lurches hard. Ben pulls at the controls, listening as she reads off information. They glide through a slow-moving asteroid field. Ben slaloms between the massive chunks of rock while she reprograms the navicomputer.

The ship whirs and beeps. “All set for the jump.”

Ben tightens his grip on the controls but doesn’t move. Moments tick by, each heavier than the last.

“What are you waiting for? Jump.”

“Are you lovers?”

“Ben, don’t.”

“Tell me. Are you and Ren lovers?”

“Not anymore.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

A pit opens in his stomach. "And, Armitage?"

Her voice breaks as she struggles to get the words out. “Not since Ren decided he wanted me instead of him.”

It’s like a kick to the sternum, choking out his breath. He utters a quiet blasphemy that would make even his mother blush as he searches for his voice.

“I was asking about you and Armitage, not…” Ben can’t even finish saying it, the rest of his thoughts snatched away by the spinning vortex inside his head. Unmoored, he lets the ship drift too close to an asteroid. It glances off the port side. The impact sends them careening toward another rock and sets off proximity alerts.

They each let off a volley of curses while scrambling to recover.

“Make the jump,” she says in a low, measured tone once they’ve stabilised the ship.

Pulse thundering, he engages the hyperdrive. The moment he is able to undo his harnesses, he’s up out of his seat and storming away from the cockpit. She can handle the ship. Or, not. He doesn’t care one way or another right now.

Ben locks himself in his quarters, scrambling the security signal to make it harder in case she tries to barge in. The urge to break and smash everything around him rends across his nerves.

_Peace is a lie_

Ben freezes at the familiar voice he still can’t place. It’s the same voice that warned him of her earlier. 

He yells into the still, artificial air. “Who is she?” 

_Who are you?_

“Tell me!” Ben knows before the words are out of his mouth that he’ll get no answers. Confusion threatens to overwhelm him. He paces the cramped space trying to make sense of everything when nothing fits together the way it should.

His thoughts turn again to his father. This time, Ben allows himself the trespass of longing for his father's guidance.

_Assume everyone will betray you, kid, and you will never be disappointed_

It’s the last thing Han had said to him before they’d shipped him off to Luke. At the time, he'd been too young to understand what it had meant, only that it had left him with a bad feeling that had lingered for weeks.

Thoughts of his father bleed into thoughts of his mother. The two blend together until a new revelation rises to the surface.

Takodana. The battle between the Arkanisians and Ren’s army. The existence of the Togruta girl. The timing. All confirmed by people he knows, people on his side. Of everyone he suspects has been lying to him, he still trusts his mother, and by default, his father, the most.

His energy turns inward as he considers other things. Her intimate knowledge of Juyo. The stone mirror she wears across her forehead. Her undeniable connection to Armitage. The strange undercurrent he feels in her presence. Each leads him further down the path toward new revelations until he reaches the place where he knows what he has to do.

“Ben?”

He feels her signature more than hears her words through the thick durasteel separating them. There’s a light tapping at his door.

He scrubs his hands across his face then takes a deep breath. If he can get off this ship, he can take whatever he wants. Including her. He’s ready when his door opens with a swirling hiss of vapour.

“Come in.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He ignores the spike of irritation her hesitation causes. “The galley?”

She nods and moves back, indicating he should go ahead.

“You first. I’m unarmed.”

Her nostrils flare in annoyance. “Fair enough.”

Ben steps into the corridor after she glides past his door. She turns to face him so she can walk backward toward the galley. At least he knows where they stand.

“We’ve lost them, for now,” she says.

He doesn't waste time acknowledging their temporary reprieve from Ren before launching into his tirade.

"The three of you? Is that it?" He can't hold back the images that rise to mind. Flashes of flushed, bare skin, kiss-bitten lips, panting breath. Armitage pinned between Rey and the hazy outline of another man. Ben swears he can feel the sharp slap of skin against skin, hear the electrifying sound of Rey's moans.

"Stop it." Her eyes are hard and bright. "Those are your thoughts. They aren't real. That isn't what's happened."

“No?”

“No. Never once.”

“Armitage?”

“Is a good man.”

“Dammit, Rey! You know what I’m asking.” He crowds closer when she steps back until they’re jammed into a corner.

“The truth?” The thin gap of space left between them hums to life.

“Yes, the fucking truth!”

She takes a deep, shaky breath before speaking. “We were lovers, of a kind, until Armitage found out about me and Ren. When Ren cut him off, Armitage cut me off.” Her eyes shine bright.

“And, me? Where do I fit, Rey?”

“You don’t. Not yet.”

Ben lashes out until he has her all the way up against the wall, hands clamped around her wrists.

She draws in a sharp breath but still doesn’t fight back. 

"Give me _one_ reason why I shouldn't have Armitage executed for treason and take you as my prisoner?"

“Don’t you see? Can’t you _feel_ it?” She raises hands caught in his tight grip until her fingertips touch his cheeks. The blue-white blur of hyperspace strobes across her features. “If you come with me, I can give you so much more.”

He drags her hands from his face. "What could you possibly have to give me?"

Rey rises into him, every part of her dangerously close. The gentle touch of her mouth is electric.

“A new Empire.” Her promise whispers against his lips then she’s kissing him until he can no longer breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Thought I’d written myself into an impossible corner with that last chapter. Rey’s betrayal and subsequent reveal of her Sith aspirations for Ben came from nowhere and threw a hydrospanner into my existing plot line. It took a major freak out and a re-watch of my favourite SW movie to find the way through. Trust the Force.


	18. Dissension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is sure this is over for good. All that’s left is the leaving.
> 
> He’s so wrong.
> 
> “The last time I saw your mother, she entrusted me with a holodisk.” Bruises are already darkening beneath the fingertips she touches to her throat. “She said it was a message. For you.”
> 
> Rey doesn’t resist when he rushes forward and hauls her to her feet. Even now, caught as they are in the gravity well sucking them toward almost certain destruction, he’s struck by the undeniable allure she possesses. He wants to kiss away the marks he’s left upon her until only desire remains. Like everything else in his life, the things he wants most remain just beyond his reach.
> 
> “The message, where is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you’re going to say.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
I changed my posting schedule.

Rage beyond any previous measure unhinges him. Ben pushes with all his strength. There’s no sound until the moment of impact. Rey crashes into the far wall with a shriek. It mirrors the high-pitched squeal of the buckling durasteel at her back. His arm flashes toward her to keep her from attacking him. Her feet dangle just beyond the floor's reach, body pressed deep into the concave deformity in the wall.

Rey pushes back just as hard, faced twisted against her own fear and rage. Electricity arcs across the room, shocking across his system. Her feet touch the floor for a brief moment before he wraps invisible bands of the Force around her, overpowering her again.

“Enough! Once we reach Atzerri, I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Instead of the continued resistance he expects, the fight leeches out of her. Rey’s expression softens until her gaze becomes hazy and faraway.

“It was my idea to become Ren’s Apprentice. I convinced him, convinced them both, that it was the path forward, for all of us.” Her eyes brighten then lock on him. “And, it was. Until you came along and ruined everything.”

He bristles, conviction hardening. Her breath hisses out as his phantom grip on her throat tightens.

“I ruined everything? My mother is dead because of you.”

Her signature darkens, flooding between them with stinging snaps of energy.

“My parents... are dead.” She gulps for air, fingers scrabbling at her neck. “Because... of choices... made by your… mother.”

That stops him cold though he doesn’t ease his grip. “Lies, all of it. Everything out of your mouth.”

The shift in her is swift and unnerving. Her face crumbles along with the last of her fight. She slips free of his hold with little effort, sinking to the floor, back pressed to the dented wall. For a terrible moment, he fears he’s killed her before she draws her knees in tight to her chest.

Ben is sure this is over for good. All that’s left is the leaving.

He’s so wrong.

“The last time I saw your mother, she entrusted me with a holodisk.” Bruises are already darkening beneath the fingertips she touches to her throat. “She said it was a message. For you.”

Rey doesn’t resist when he rushes forward and hauls her to her feet. Even now, caught as they are in the gravity well sucking them toward almost certain destruction, he’s struck by the undeniable allure she possesses. He wants to kiss away the marks he’s left upon her until only desire remains. Like everything else in his life, the things he wants most remain just beyond his reach.

“The message, where is it?”

Her eyes meet his, dark with defiance. “Take your hands off me.”

Instead of complying, he tightens his grip, not caring that his fingers dig in hard enough to bruise again. “The message, give it to me.” He’s so angry, the words spit from his mouth.

Rey jerks to the side in an attempt to break free. She gives up when it’s clear she’s at a physical disadvantage. “I don’t have it. Armitage has it. On Arkanis.”

Ben scoffs and shoves himself away, a bitter smile splitting his lips.

“Of course, he does.” The heavy weight of his mistakes bears down on Ben. “You really think I’m that stupid?” He rakes a shaking hand through his hair while he paces. “Of course, you do,” he says to himself. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Before he can say anything else, the ship sounds a proximity alert to their approaching destination. By the time he looks up, Rey’s pushed past him toward the cockpit. She takes the pilot’s seat, leaving Ben as co-pilot. He slides in as she sets their course.

“Going to sublights,” she says.

Ben braces for the jolt. Streaming blue-white starlight coalesces into sharp pinpoints until Atzerri blinks into existence, its mottled surface unchanged from the last time he’d been planetside. He catalogues everything he can recall about the port city of Talos in the short time he has left.

"Ten minutes to planetfall,” she says.

Ben’s hands grip the armrests hard enough to blanch. “I want my mother's message.”

She answers without looking up from the controls. “You’ll have it, as soon as we make it to Arkanis.”

Her answer boils his blood.

“And, then what? I'm back to being a prisoner? A pawn in your scheme to rule the galaxy? My father was right. The moment you have what you want from me, you'll crush me."

"That couldn’t be farther from the truth," she says without meeting his eyes.

"The truth?" He gives a derisive laugh. "I'm pretty sure you have no idea what the word means."

"We aren't the ones who want you dead, Ben. Remember that."

"What do you want?"

"Peace and security for the galaxy. An end to the wars."

It's a canned, hollow answer that means nothing. "What do _you_ want, Rey?"

The pause is long enough he’s sure she won’t answer. At last, one hand rises from the controls. She still refuses to look at him even as light fingers touch the silver band across her forehead. "To be free from all this."

Her voice is barely a whisper but they are close enough that he can feel the strength of her conviction in the Force despite the dampening effect of the stone mirror she wears.

Like him, she’s spent a lifetime as a pawn in someone else’s games. The sudden weight of understanding sinks through him. If even part of her past is true, they are two of a kind.

Used, manipulated, exploited for who and what they are.

The ragged edge of his anger softens, leaving him unsure how to respond. As aligned as they might seem, it’s chaos. They’re still squarely on opposing sides and he has no leverage, no bargaining power. Nothing he can use to tip the scales in his favour.

_unless_

It comes in a flash too quick to be a vision and still enough that he knows what to do.

While Rey makes contact with ground control requesting permission to land, he treads lightly beneath the edge of the stone mirror until he’s skimming the surface of her mind. It’s enough for him to learn her destination once they land.

He retreats from her mind, working his way through the choppy mix of his thoughts until he has something resembling a plan. There are a thousand ways it could go bad and only one way it goes right. Good or bad, it’s the best he’s got because he’s out of time.

The landing pad rises to meet them as she swoops in. If their ship’s been flagged as fugitive, there’s no indication. Their landing is smooth and uneventful.

The moment his boots hit dirt, he peels away in the opposite direction of where he believes she’s headed.

“Ben!” She whoops out his name, clearly caught between chasing after him and making her rendezvous.

He’s betting she won’t come after him, the window of time for her to meet her allies closing by the second. She’ll have to make a choice and he hopes he’s guessed correctly which one she’ll make.

Ben ducks sideways, winding his way through the cramped, crowded stalls of Trader’s Plaza. He ignores the myriad of sights and smells assaulting him. There’s no time to linger or make sense of anything. He pushes through the gauzy maze of hanging textiles and overfull market stands, doing his best to avoid stepping in the filthy, rancid puddles. There isn’t enough incense in the galaxy to drive out the choking stench of death and treachery.

His imposing presence keeps all but the most tenacious of vendors from calling out to him. He subdues them easily, erasing his presence from their memories with a subtle wave of the Force across their simple minds. No one will remember him as anything other than a brief shadow crossing the sun.

The same isn’t true for Rey. Silken tendrils of her signature wisp and curl across his skin, ensnaring him in their bright glitterstim web. As much as he needs the connection to her for this to work, he can’t risk giving away the next part of his plan. He pulls hard, drawing a familiar, impenetrable curtain between him and the Force until he can no longer sense her presence.

Ben crashes through the edge of the market into the fresh air and bright sunshine of the Pemblehov District. He takes a few deep breaths while he assesses his situation. Things are different and they are the same. The place he’s searching for is still recognisable, even this many years later. It’s a short, dusty walk to his destination.

He stands at the entrance, heart pounding, breath ragged. A carbon-scored durasteel door has replaced the bright silk tapestry of a quieter, more peaceful time. Doubt, the first he’s felt since they landed, crashes through him. Gaining admittance will not be as easy as he’d anticipated.

He raps his knuckles against the heavy, fortified steel. The dull clang echoes behind the door while he waits for whatever happens next. Enough time passes that a thousand scenarios scroll through his mind, none better than the last. His hand falls to his hip, fingers curling around the hilt of his saber in preparation for defending himself against whatever unknown lies within.

He jumps back when a gatekeeper droid emerges from a small circular hatch set above a gleaming silver keypad next to the door. It pushes its way into his personal space.

“Ah'chu apenkee?”

“Ben Solo.”

“Choy? Do u naga?” 

“Mee'm looking che do pateesam,” he says, switching to Huttese.

“Coo's do pateesa?”

Ben speaks a name he hopes still holds serious weight.

The droid jerks closer until its photo-receptor nearly touches his nose. He lets it inspect him, holding steady under its obnoxious scrutiny.

It bleeps then retracts into its hole. Ben holds his breath while he waits for it to decide his fate. A sigh of relief escapes him when the locks disengage, allowing the door to slide open far enough for him to slip into the dim interior.

“Ben Solo.” The Twi’lek smiles as she approaches, arms extended.

Ben greets the woman by accepting her hug. “Kaasha, it’s good to see you.”

"How long's it been?"

"Fifteen years," he says.

The Twi’ steps back, hands still gripping his forearms in a warm gesture. "So it has. I was saddened to learn of your mother's death."

"Thank you." Ben doesn't offer anything else.

"And, your father? Is he well?"

Ben swallows his feelings and pulls free. "As well as can be expected. He's on Coruscant handling the rest of my mother’s affairs."

"Good man. Best sabacc player I've ever known. Except myself, of course."

The first real smile in days breaks across Ben’s face and fills his eyes. “So I’ve heard.”

With pleasantries exchanged, she turns the conversation to business. Her lips draw back, exposing the sharpened canids marking her high rank. “I assume you need something. Desperately."

“There’s not much time,” he says, face drawn tight with the gravity of his situation.

“There never is when Solos show up unannounced. Come on, let’s get on with it.”

Ben follows her deeper into the fortified hut.

* * *

“You’re sure about this?” Kaasha asks when he's finished explaining what he means to do.

“I never ask that question until after I’ve done it,” he answers.

Kaasha rolls her eyes before giving him a bright smile full of knowing. “How very Solo of you, Ben. A chip off the old block.”

Her sustained attempt to dampen some of the threat falls short with him.

“The fate of the galaxy may well depend on this.”

“I can give you everything but the Jedi woman.” Kaasha’s grown serious, all traces of her earlier good humour evaporated.

“If you can promise me what I need, I can get her.”

Kaasha gives him a wary look then sighs. “Very well.” The woman specifies a time and location. “You’ll have a full cycle, at most, before you have to leave. After that, I can’t protect you.”

It’s not as much as he’d like but it’s more than he dared to hope for. “I’ll make it work.”

* * *

Bright sun and oppressive heat greet him when he steps outside. It takes a moment to adjust and refocus. Ben lifts his hold on the Force until Rey's signature tingles against his skin. She’s still planetside. He picks up a brief burst of broken conversation, catching just enough to know she’s still with her allies. Ben loops around the city, avoiding the market, until he reaches the place where her signature is strongest. It’s easy to cloak himself and slip into the shadows.

He needs to get her alone. It’s the riskiest part of his plan. Ben checks his chronos then tunes in to those closest to her so he doesn’t give his presence away.

_...need to leave...not worth losing you over…_

The pit in his stomach widens. Ben listens harder, trying to ascertain whether she means to come after him.

_...holonet is full of bounty alerts...rumours of a massive display of force against any system found harbouring you…_

Fear and frustration flow into the Force, dark and unsettling as midnight.

_...you would still go after him, even knowing millions will die if you fail..._

It’s all the proof he needs.

With some effort, Ben tricks one of her companions into passing false information.

_...he's been spotted. Pemblehov District, near the old temple…_

Ben pushes a little harder, using her friends to convince her to go alone.

_One of ours will meet you… extra security…_

The moment he’s certain she’s convinced, Ben cloaks himself. He’s sweating from the heat and exertion, eyes scanning for any sign of her. The city teems past his place in the shadows. His breath huffs, ragged and uneven, when he spots her leaving a nearby building. She looks around then heads toward their rendezvous point.

Ben slips into the crowd, keeping as many obstructions between them as possible. There’s a brief moment when she stops to look back and he’s forced to duck between buildings to avoid detection. After a heavy, heart-pounding pause, he peeks around the corner.

Convinced she’s headed in the right direction, he cuts around, heading her off. When he arrives at the old temple, there’s no sign of her. Ben slips inside the abandoned temple to wait.

Dust taunts his nose with burning, unwanted stimulus until at last he hears the sound of tentative footsteps approaching.

“Ben?”

Silent and still, he remains hidden even though his heart pounds as her shadow darkens the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Her voice echoes against the ancient stone walls.

Rey takes two tentative steps into the temple then he’s on her. One arm wraps around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides to subdue her against his chest while he forces the chemical-soaked rag over her mouth and nose and lifts her off her feet.

She claws at the back of his hand, heels hammering his shins, wild and desperate against him until she’s overcome. When she’s limp, he loosens his hold on her face to keep her from slipping from his grasp. Ben sweeps her into his arms and pushes deeper into the empty temple.

His mouth presses against the pale shell of her ear as he holds her tight.

“There’s nothing to fear from me,” he whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. Like everyone, I’m navigating the reality shift that is 2020.
> 
> ~*~
> 
> Here's the translation from Huttese to English of Ben's conversation with the gatekeeper droid:
> 
> “Ah'chu apenkee?” [Who are you?]
> 
> “Ben Solo.”
> 
> “Choy? Do u naga?” [What do you want?]
> 
> “Mee'm looking che do pateesam [I’m looking for a friend.],” he says, switching to Huttese. 
> 
> “Coo's do pateesa?” [Who’s your friend?]
> 
> ~*~ 
> 
> Hope to see you again soon with Chapter 19!


	19. Apprentice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's breath falters when a young woman materialises beside Hux. She's dressed, not in the finery of royalty, but in the coarse black battledress of the Sith. 
> 
> "What am I to do with her?"
> 
> "Take her as your Apprentice. Train her. When she is ready, the Sith will rise again and we will take over the galaxy."
> 
> "With you, as Emperor."
> 
> "And you, by my side."
> 
> "And, her?"
> 
> "She will serve us both."
> 
> "Do you fuck her?" Kylo keeps his blank stare on the woman while he speaks to Hux, enjoying the way her expression hardens.
> 
> "No." The man's eyes crawl over Kylo's mask "I prefer the likes of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief skim along the surface of the present before diving deep into the past. 
> 
> Kylo has a few things he'd like to share about his relationship with Rey.

"Where is she now?" The fury contained in his words fogs the interior of his mask.

The officer, whose name Kylo doesn't care to know, shifts and won't meet his stare.

"We tracked her last known location to Atzerri, my Lord."

"Where is she_ now?"_ The last word vibrates through his vocoder with enough force to rattle his ears.

Kylo's gloves creak against his tightened fists. The man in front of him tugs at his collar and swallows hard. He doesn’t need to see the terror in the man's eyes. It's crystal clear in the Force.

"She’s disappeared, my Lord. Vanished."

It's no surprise. Her stone mirror may disrupt their bond. It doesn't block him from sensing the faint pulse of her signature, a signature he hasn't felt for almost a day. She’s not dead because even in death, those with her strength in the Force are never truly gone.

"Hux?"

"On Arkanis still, my Lord."

He clenches his jaws to match the clench of his fists. "And, my brother? Where is Benjamin Amidala?"

This time, the officer swallows hard without any help from Kylo. "Vanished, my Lord. Same as your Apprentice."

Another useless piece of information. However she's managed to completely vanish, he's done the same. "Anything else?"

"Our forces stand ready to surround Arkanis, at your word."

Kylo turns away until the galaxy spins to life beyond the ship's main starport. "No, hold our forces. They're going to make a run for Arkanis. Let them through. I want them all in one place when we attack."

What he doesn't say is how much he wants Hux to have a front-row seat when he reclaims Rey. And then, there's the matter of his brother. Coming face-to-face with Ben will bring him an entirely different kind of pleasure.

They can't stay hidden forever. If he can't feel them in the Force, it means they're cut off, powerless beyond their own human capabilities. Weak. Vulnerable. If they have any chance at fighting him, they'll need to resurface or face certain defeat.

While he awaits their imminent return, there are other ways to sate his desires.

Kylo pulls his gloves free and begins undoing the clasps of his tunic. "Bring Nahla to me.”

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

"Who did you say you were?" The question is a deliberate dig at a man who clearly values his status and prestige.

"Armitage Hux, Prince of Arkanis, my Lord."

At that, Kylo chuckles beneath his mask. "You hear that, men? Lord Ren, what do you say?" The three similarly masked knights gathered behind him laugh.

He leans forward for emphasis. "It's Master Ren. There are no lords here."

The man from Arkanis, with his pale skin and bright hair, frowns. "Are you not a Sith Lord?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course, it matters."

Kylo shifts back in his seat. "Why?"

"Answer my question and I'll answer yours in return."

"The Sith are dead. Their ancient, outdated ways are dead. We are so much more than the Sith and their ridiculous Rule of Two." His anger at this man’s arrogant insolence rises with each word he speaks until he's near to yelling. "So, no, I am not a _Sith Lord."_

The other man allows the silence to grow long and charged before he speaks. "Would you like to be?"

The man’s suggestion catches him off-guard. It borders on blasphemy, one he's dared not let himself consider. Perhaps there’s something to whatever Hux wants. Curiosity is the only thing keeping him from throwing the man out. He presses forward, looking for weak spots. "Do you know who I am? Who I _really_ am?"

The man answers without hesitation. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Tension makes him shift in his seat. "What is it you want?"

"To be Emperor, of course."

Kylo laughs as understanding dawns. As usual, he's overthinking the situation. "You came all this way to ask me to murder your father?"

"You misunderstand. I don't want to be Emperor of that wet little chunk of rock my father presides over. I want to be Emperor of the galaxy."

Kylo's good humour fades. "The galaxy already has an Emperor."

"Perhaps the word does not mean the same for us, Master Ren. Last I checked, the New Republic are still in power. I would rule them all."

"Killing your father won't make you Emperor."

"No, but it will make it easier."

"If I kill your father, what's in it for me?"

"Forgive me, Master Ren. Another misunderstanding. I'm perfectly capable of killing my father on my own."

He's out of patience with this strange, infuriating man. "For the last time, Hux, what do you want?"

The pale man rises from his chair, hand held out to the side. "To strike an alliance." A small hand slides into Hux’s gloved one. "If it pleases you, Master Ren, I offer you the Lady Rey."

Kylo's breath falters when a young woman materialises beside Hux. She's dressed, not in the finery of royalty, but in the coarse black battledress of the Sith.

"What am I to do with her?"

"Take her as your Apprentice. Train her. When she is ready, the Sith will rise again and we will take over the galaxy."

"With you, as Emperor."

"And you, by my side."

"And, her?"

"She will serve us both."

"Do you fuck her?" Kylo keeps his blank stare on the woman while he speaks to Hux, enjoying the way her expression hardens.

"No." The man's eyes crawl over Kylo's mask "I prefer the likes of you."

"I see."

"Do you?"

Kylo appraises the woman in silence. She’s taller than many, slim with strength rather than soft from royal treatment. Unlike Hux, her complexion speaks of long exposure to the sun. A mismatched pair, to be sure, and one he no longer wishes to entertain.

"Enough of this. I can't train her. She's too old."

“You would say no, without knowing what I’m capable of, my Lord?” she asks.

His attention snaps back to the woman. Alarm prickles along the back of his neck as he watches her take two steps closer. His men also sense the danger, evidenced in the subtle way they shift to readiness.

“Your battle skills mean nothing without the Force.”

Her expression darkens. “Strange, that you can’t sense it in me. They all do.” The young woman sweeps a hand toward his knights. “Ask them.”

Kylo reaches out, finds overwhelming consensus in the minds of his men. “If you’re Force-sensitive, why do you hide it?” And, more importantly, _how_ does she hide it? If nothing else, she’ll be useful for that if she really is what she claims.

“I'm not the one hiding, my Lord." She stares hard, her presence pushing its way beneath the cracks in his mask. "Perhaps it is you who isn’t Force-sensitive.”

Kylo senses the doubt among his men. Her threat enrages him, sending him to his feet, weapon ignited. “Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you both.”

To his surprise, she steps toward the fiery spit of his saber, still unarmed. “You’re welcome to try, my Lord.” Dual blades of yellow plasma hum to life in her hands. “I would offer that there are other ways to work this out, without bloodshed.”

The air vibrates with electrified weapons while that bastard Hux sits smug in his seat, hands laced together above his lap. “Perhaps we should start again, Master Ren,” he says.

The young woman stands down first, blades deactivating with a low, hissing buzz. “I need a teacher, my Lord, someone to show me the ways of the Force.”

He stares at her through the dark lens of his mask, close enough to kill her if he choses. A powerful burst of energy rends through his mind. It opens a violent fissure in the Force, its jagged edge allowing her to seep into the empty spaces inside him. The connection is sudden and breathtaking.

“Don’t be afraid, Lord Ren,” she says. “I feel it, too.”

…

Rey slams the book closed with an angry grunt. "Nothing. Three months, and you've given me _nothing_ but dusty old books and words without application."

Kylo looks up from his own book.

"Are you afraid of me, my Lord? That perhaps you'll discover I'm more powerful than you? Is that why you refuse to allow me battle training?"

Kylo sets his book aside, his focus solely on her. "Careful, Apprentice, that your personal desires not stand in the way of your chosen path." It's a reminder for him as much as it is for her. She's not wrong about his fear of her, only wrong about his reasons.

Working with weapons means getting up close and personal with her, a growing desire of his own, one he refuses to give in to. "Do you think you are better than the others? That you should be allowed to skip this portion of the learning? The others, they spent years between these pages before taking up arms."

She rises from her seat and slams her palms against the desk. "I have already _spent_ years studying Sith lore. Armitage has been a devoted, resourceful teacher." The heavy book in front of her nearly topples to the floor when she shoves it away. "I'm not like the others, and you know it."

He eases back in his chair, hands curled over the edges of its arms. Time for a lesson of his choosing. "Come here."

Her eyes flash bright in a way that pierces his resolve. The coarse, shapeless robe she wears whispers against the floor as she approaches. Kylo does his best not to think about the fact that she wears nothing underneath. Simple ties at the shoulder and hip are all that hold the material against her skin.

"Stop," he says when she draws too near. The hem of her robe brushes across the polished surface of his boots before settling around her ankles.

"I want to fight," she says.

"There are other ways of getting what you want without fighting. If I decide you shouldn't fight, you will obey my orders."

"If I'm not meant to fight." Her fingertips ghost across the back of his hand. "What would you have me do instead, my Lord?"

Her breath skips when he catches her hand in his. It would be a simple thing to pull her closer, let his fingers loosen the ties of her robe so he can push it off her shoulders and draw her, warm and naked, into his lap.

"If you won't let me fight, let me at least see your face."

He's stunned to realise she's loosened herself from his hold enough that her fingers have found their way beneath his mask, dangerously close to the release mechanisms. He clamps gloved hands around her wrists until he feels the bones grind.

"You're afraid," she says.

"Not half as afraid as you."

There's a long pause while she studies him. "They say you're a monster, that your face is horribly disfigured. Is it true, my Lord?"

The temptation to show her the truth rises swift and unbidden. Training overrides instinct. He pulls her hands away but doesn’t let go. “You’re out of line, Apprentice.”

She keeps her stare firm. "What would you have me do, Master?"

"Return to your studies and when you are finished with this book, you will start on the next."

She stands, silent and defiant before him, taunting him with her ability to shield her thoughts from him.

His jaw tightens against his reaction to the slow way she sinks to her knees. She forces him into a decision; remain still and allow her to slot herself between his thighs, or widen his stance to avoid her intended contact. He spreads his legs, allowing her the space but leaving him vulnerable.

When she's on one knee, she bows her head in deference. The hood of her robe settles around her face, obscuring it from his view.

Like him, she burns warm. Her heat touches his skin through the thick material of his clothes. She may be able to hide her thoughts but there's no hiding the part of her that's human. She wants him. It's electric and exciting.

"As you command, my Lord."

He remains still until she retakes her seat at the desk and finds her place in the book. When he's sure she's engaged in her studies, he rises and makes his way across the room. The door hisses open as he approaches. He pauses in the doorway without looking at her. "You can eat when you've finished the second book."

"Yes, my Lord."

…

He's at his desk, eyes blurred from hours spent reviewing reports, when his private comms signals an incoming transmission.

Kylo pinches his eyes with the finger and thumb of one hand to clear his vision before answering.

"Yes?"

"Sir, there’s a disturbance involving your apprentice in training bay 3063."

He tenses, focus shifting to the new situation. "Report."

"She's destroying battle training droids." His captain pauses in a way he doesn't like. "It appears she has your weapon, sir."

His hand goes to his belt, finds empty space where his saber should be. Fury rises inside him, at Rey’s defiance, at his Captain's inability to gain control of the situation, at his grudging admiration for Rey's fierce sense of independence.

"The Knights can handle it. Have them bring her to me."

"Sir, the Knights have already attempted to subdue her and have been unsuccessful. I wouldn't have disturbed you unless it required your personal attention to the matter."

"Send the feed through."

His datapad goes dark for a moment before blazing to life in a whirl of motion and sound. She moves fast, every part of her coordinated in a familiar, visceral pattern. The sparking carcasses of droids litter the ground around her. His men ring the edges of her periphery. He doesn't like the uncertainty he senses in them.

"Sir, your orders?"

"My Knights are to stand their ground until I arrive. She is not to leave."

He stalks the corridors, fists clenched to steel himself for what's coming. The training bay's door opens onto chaos. A fierce battle rages inside with Rey at the centre.

"Enough!" His arm flashes out with enough power to interrupt their fight. Bodies and weapons hit the floor.

He waits until they regain their ability to move. His men rise from the floor, wary and infuriatingly slow. Rey displays no such hesitation.

"Leave us," he says.

"Master Ren?"

He rounds on the dissenter. "You are all dismissed."

Kylo doesn't watch them leave.

"Explain yourself, Apprentice."

"I don't have to. You saw it with your own eyes. It's the only reason you're here."

His eyes shift beneath his mask until he finds his saber. It lays on the ground, equidistant between them.

"Go ahead. Take it. I won't stop you," she says.

Her defiance has the power to shake the stars. It cannot be allowed to take root in their relationship.

"You took it, and you will return it. Pick it up." He takes great satisfaction in watching her expression change as his words sink in. "I never ask for anything twice, Rey."

She sweeps forward in a blur of motion, invading his space, his weapon in her hands.

"Your lightsaber, my Lord." She holds it toward him, ends balanced against her open palms.

Thick leather creaks as he curls his grip around the hilt between her hands. Instead of letting go, her hold tightens.

"You will allow me to fight," she says. "Or, I will find someone else who will."

This insolence has gone on long enough. "Take off your robe."

"What?"

He doesn't need the Force to sense her disquiet. "If you want to fight, take _off_ your robe."

Her hands loosen on his saber then fall away. She steps back, head bowed in deference.

"Forgive me, my Lord." Uncertainty, the first she's expressed, tremors her voice. "I'm out of line. I see that now."

A deep, roaring excitement pulses through him. Her actions present him with an opportunity to possess something he desires. It's dangerous and flawed and he's unable to resist. He tells himself he has the control he needs to keep things from spiraling.

"You will move into my chambers where I can watch over you since it is clear you are unable to do so for yourself."

At that, her head snaps up. Eyes bright with excitement meet his. He expected fear or shock, not the knowing gleam he sees. "As you wish, my Lord."

There's no time to second-guess himself, only time to adapt.

"Phasma will have your belongings delivered along with a desk for your studies and a sleeping platform."

He says nothing about the smirk she wears. With her by his side, there will be more than enough time to deal with her insubordination.

When they arrive at his quarters, the things he's ordered for her are already being delivered.

"The bed goes next to her desk," he says before the officers can finish carrying it into his private sleeping area.

There are men enough to make short work of moving her in. All too soon, they're gone, leaving them alone.

She's still and silent, fingers of one hand splayed on her desktop, face hidden beneath her cowl. "What would you have me do, my Lord?"

"Finish your studies, as instructed."

She settles onto the edge of her bed. "I already have." Bright, expectant eyes meet his beneath the shadow of her robe. "What now, my Lord?"

He considers whether to test her knowledge, decides a different approach will work better.

"Now, you may eat."

She watches him in silence while he handles the request for food.

"There's time to use the fresher, if you'd like." Kylo doesn't wait for her reply, returning to the report he'd been engrossed in when she'd interrupted him with her outlandish display of temper.

After quiet minutes, she glides through the room, a fresh robe in her arms. Excitement winds tight inside him. He retreats into his work as best he can, ignoring his thoughts of her enjoying his fresher. Images of her wet, soap-slicked skin won't do anyone any good, least of all him.

It's no use. The words on the screen blur, taking the shape of water running along glass. The simple robe he makes her wear turns her enticing form shapeless. His mind won't let him forget what lies beneath.

She's left the door open enough for him to consider it an invitation. Water hisses and he swears he hears the rough drag of her robe slipping off her shoulders. There's no mistaking her hum of enjoyment. By the water's change in sound, she's stepped under the warm spray.

A war rages inside him. No stranger to battle, this is unlike anything he's encountered before. It's a stark reminder; nothing is more terrifying than fighting against oneself.

It's taking everything he has to remain seated. His mind goes where he doesn't otherwise dare. He closes his eyes, breath slow and controlled.

Images of her come to him, unbidden. There's a brief flash of her face then he's imagining more. Small, pert breasts tipped with delicate rosy nipples. Rivulets of warm water that stream down the flat planes of her belly, parting around the shadow that marks her navel. A dark patch of unruly hair that hides her sex.

Kylo lets out a stuttering breath as his thoughts turn dark and forbidden. She lays before him, naked and vulnerable, while he stands slotted in the notch of her thighs, spreading her legs wide with his hips. One hand rests on her lower belly, pulling the skin taut, while the other clutches a razor.

"Kylo?"

He curses, eyes flying open. It takes a moment to reorient himself to his current surroundings. If the aching hardness tenting his trousers is any indication, the situation is dire.

_"Kylo?"_ Her voice calls out louder, edged this time with the beginnings of fear.

This is surely another of Snoke's tests, one he somehow managed to set himself up for. So be it. He'll endure it like all the others. He takes a deep breath before answering.

"Yes, Apprentice?"

She calls for him a third time, seemingly unaware of his response. The need to move, and move fast, floods him with adrenaline. It's a race to reassure her he's still here before she emerges in search of him.

It's how Kylo finds himself at the fresher door, mind curled tight around its steel frame to keep her from opening it and exposing herself to him.

"I'm bleeding." Her voice is barely loud enough for him to hear over the rush of water and fast-running emotions, but hear her he does.

Without another thought, Kylo pushes his way into the fresher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sliding into dangerous territory, not with a whisper, but with a bang.

**Author's Note:**

> Always and forever a Star Wars fan


End file.
